


Ambivalence

by esc_apade



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Boys In Love, Character Study, Childhood Memories, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pain, Pining, Romance, Slow Build, Unrequited Love, Writing Exercise, gradually adding more tags, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29401248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esc_apade/pseuds/esc_apade
Summary: ambivalence | am·biv·a·lencesimultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings (such as attraction and repulsion) toward an object, person, or action."Three words, eight letters; I love you or I hate you, I guess I feel both."A series of Dreamnoblade oneshots/short stories I've decided to amass into one work.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 347





	1. Raw emotions (1/3)

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not ship the real content creators, nor do I endorse doing so. This is both a character and dynamic study because I've found their compatibility interesting. However, there will still be OOC moments (a lot, I'd say). None of the many events depicted in these stories have ever happened (in correlation to the ship itself), nor has any change depicted here relating to the CCs have ever occurred. I am not going to write smut.
> 
> On another hand, I have absolutely no beta and I will end the world if I find a mistake in my work after posting-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream messes around with Techno and Techno doesn't know if anything's right or wrong anymore.
> 
> Something's bleeding into their casual friendship, and he thinks he should avoid it, but it's no longer up to him to control anything.
> 
> Part: 1/3, 4k words
> 
> This can also be read as a standalone oneshot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally started to write this individually, but I decided to expand on it. I was still a bit mediocre while writing this some time ago, so please bear with me about the OOC moments- please I still have two parts I've recently planned that are at least slightly better-
> 
> This part might be rewritten though. Soon.
> 
> Plus, happy Valentine's, we're all going to hell.

"Hey Techno, I'm still going to beat you in Parkour Warrior next Minecraft Championship. Wanna up your game or not?"

Dream taunted Techno as he traversed through the course with ease, occasionally lagging behind to stare at Technoblade struggling at the trapdoors.

Techno grumbled. "You know that you're better than me at this, which is exactly why I'm practicing with you."

Dream's Minecraft character jumped and shifted on the opposite side of the course Technoblade was struggling with, the white smile on its torso mocking Techno for his inefficiency at the trivially hard jumps in this level. "You're gonna lose."

"I know that."

"Don't rush it."

"I _also_ know that, Dream," Techno half-growled into his mic as he rushed off an edge too fast and fell into the void, Dream's light and high pitched laughter echoing in his headphones, stupidly soothing to listen to especially when the subject of ridicule was him.

Techno sighed for what seemed like the tenth time in the span of five minutes. "If you're so good, then teach me, you green Teletubby."

He could hear Dream chuckle closely into his mic. "You know, I have absolutely nothing to lose. But what can I profit from helping my so-called _rival_ gaining leverage and experience from me?"

"I will tell everyone on my channel to subscribe to you-"

"Techno, I have more subs."

"-and it will be special because I shouted it out from _my_ channel, where I so clearly state that my subs are my life," He yawned as he missed a jump again, the lime green of Dream's skin swaying continuously before his eyes.

No one would ever expect the two well-known gods of Minecraft, Dream and Technoblade, would be chatting this contently with each other while trying to complete the courses in the practice map of Parkour Warrior. Of course, to the world wide web, Dream and Techno were just fairly friendly rivals who only knew each other like this through Mr. Beast, but instead, after the duel, the two had developed a hidden and unlikely friendship between themselves, and their previous timid curiosity towards each other quickly turned into easygoing banter.

"Imagine if we teamed up again. Ohhhh, all the views and subs, it would be absolutely immaculate. We would sweep the floor with the rich and the clout would fly to us, specifically I mean me, who cares about that Dream guy?" Techno rambled on and on as Dream laughed, entertained, in the background again.

Dream tried to speak through his laughter. "N-no, imagine if their viewers all subscribed to me, the one person on the team who doesn't shamelessly self-promote-"

"Nahhhhh, I'm still going to pick at any chance to flag out my channel in front of your large viewership and all your clout will eventually be mine. _Allll_ part of the master plan," Techno said with all the deliberate exaggerated swagger he could muster as he tried not to laugh at Dream's ridiculous expel of a wheeze.

"I don't even know why that's funny- oh god- but I just mean that you'll never get any of my subs, I've always performed better than you in events-" Dream coughed as he tried not to vomit out his lungs.

Techno huffed. "Not necessarily, Sands of Time guy. I mean, for other events, you're especially good, gotta admit sadly-"

Dream cut through his words playfully. "You know, I did better at exploiting and finding the limited builds of Buildmart than you. Should be enough to override your advantage over that damned Sands game."

"That's BS. Buildmart only has so many options that practically you and I both know. Not much of a pro, I'd say," Techno mused, "although you do reign at Parkour Warrior between us."

"Yeah, I'm high up the leaderboard. At least higher than you."

"Mm, I'm the bottom."

There was a split second of silence before Dream yelled "WHAT?!" into his mic before bursting out into wheezes harder than Techno had ever heard him wheeze before, his mic picking up the dull thumps of his hand on his desk as Techno felt his own lungs (and ears) shrivel at the sound of Dream laughing again, the pitch of the wheeze rivaling the pitch of a dog whistle.

Techno furrowed his eyebrows, heart palpitating in slight nerves, staring at Dream's Minecraft figure which had gone completely still save for the subtle movement of its head as Dream's mouse moved with every slam of his fist.

"... what's so funny? All I did was say I was a bottom? Or isn't that how you refer to losers?"

"Stop, Techno, I'm gonna _die_ -" Dream choked out as Techno audibly heard him fall back on his chair, his loud obnoxious laugh now distant and slightly echoed.

"You gotta tell me if I've said something wrong, I can't relax if it's something my subscribers and the rich people would take out of context," Technoblade frowned, starting to struggle with the course again, trying his best to ignore the green figure starting to shift and jump in the distance again as Dream recovered from his amazing laughing fit.

Dream snickered again. "Oh no, it's nothing, it just sounded really _really_ funny for no reason."

"You're hysterical."

"I'm _not_!"

There was another moment of temporary silence before Dream broke it again. "Say it again," he demanded, voice sounding like he was holding in another laugh.

Techno rolled his eyes. "Why should I? Your reaction was enough to tell me this isn't going to end well."

"Oh, it's nothing, it's nothing," Dream repeated. Techno knew that if he saw his face right now, it would be smirking with the slyness of a fox. "I'm not stupid, Dream. Tell me."

"It's- it's just a funny way of saying you're at the bottom of the leaderboard and I'm at the _top_ ," Dream mused, his character standing still now.

Techno missed another jump, diving into the void, distracted by Dream's words. "So what, I'm a bottom and you're a top?"

Dream wheezed so hard again that Techno swore that he had to get hearing aids after hearing that high frequency sound.

"Oh god, I'm fucking light-headed-" was all Techno could hear before Dream dissolved again. Techno took off his headphones and even so he could hear the piercing tea kettle noise.

Putting the headphones back on after Dream had stopped, Techno adjusted his mic. "You done?" he said with a deadpan tone.

Dream giggled again. "Yeah no, I'm done," he said in a higher-pitched voice as he evidently tried to hold in more laughter.

"Then tell me, what's up with this strange reaction I've elicited from you by just saying those two words."

"I told you, it's just a funny way of saying it! Nothing much, nothing much, relax," Dream pompously stated as his in-game character turned and began to traverse the courses after Technoblade's course in which he was still absentmindedly jumping on, not even bothering to pass. Instead, he was waiting for Dream to give him a proper answer. "This honestly makes me doubt everything I've said up to this point," Techno grumbled in a low voice, his tone turning more guttural.

"Hey, do it again. That was funnier than I expected," Dream excitedly requested again.

"What, you're gonna record what I'm saying? No chance, no chance for you if you're finding it this funny," Techno laughed as Dream deflated again.

"Come on, it's just a joke," Dream continued to urge Techno into saying the 'thing' again, strangely encouraging. "It's just funny, say it again," he repeated.

Techno took his hand away from his mouse and facepalmed. "Dream, I'm telling you, I'm _not_ saying it again until you tell me what it means."

"And I _told_ you! It just means your position in the leaderboard but it's more funny!" Dream was getting a little indignant over Techno's blatant refusal while he sighed once again, getting a bit tired and slightly nervous with Dream's incessant pushing. "I should've just left the vc after we went from grinding resources on your SMP to Parkour Warriors practice and left you festering here," he exasperatedly said.

Only silence followed Techno's words, but instead of making him abashedly awkward that Dream wasn't responding, Techno seemed to have a feeling that _something_ was scheming behind those devious cogs in his brain - he could almost hear the screws turning, and knowing Dream, he was about to do no good.

After a second of trepidation, Dream spoke again, slowly enunciating his words. "Oh yeah... I forgot that we were still in the SMP voice chat."

"What about it?" Techno reset back to the start of the course and started all over again, hopping seamlessly over the simple obstacles before the harder courses.

"Hey Techno..." Dream started. "If someone comes into the vc, you _could_ ask them about that."

"About what?"

"That... bottom-top thing."

"You've been avoiding that phrase. What's wrong with being a top on the leaderboard if what you're saying is correct?"

"Just say if you'll agree or not, Techno." Dream's voice was sweet and pleading, and Techno scoffed, feeling a ridiculous want to go with anything the man says.

"Fine, if someone comes in here I'll tell them about it. Happy?"

"Very." Dream was satisfied. 

Techno grunted a sound of approval before continuing to grind his skills on the Parkour Warrior's course, too annoyed at Dream to ask him for instructions or help, but too complacent with him to leave him all alone in the voice channel. However, his suspicions did not diminish after agreeing with Dream on this 'harmless' deal; on the contrary, it rose as Dream's apprehensive silence continued on with only the subtle repeating taps of his keyboard. He did not even move as Techno walked past him in game, still absorbed in what he was doing. Albeit skeptical, Techno could do nothing but wait as he heard Dream chuckle quietly every now and then.

However, Techno's skepticism hit its peak as Dream started to burst into full-blown laughter again, seemingly neurotic. "Dream... what are you doing?"

Dream giggled more. "Nothing, my dear friend Technoblade."

But it was just at that moment a ping from Discord notified the both of them that someone had joined the channel unprovoked.

"Hello, Dream and Techno." Wilbur's deep and soothing voice resonated within the call.

There was a moment of just nothing happening before Dream laughed _again,_ his wheeze almost as hard as when he laughed at Techno for saying those words. And Techno, at this point, realized that he had been set into a stupid trap.

"Dream... did you message Wilbur?"

All he got in response was a few choked out words and a harder wheeze.

Wilbur piped up. "Am I not welcome? Dream did spam me to get in vc. I was mostly just chilling before."

Techno sighed. "Why are you like this... Not you, Wilbur," he said quickly, "I mean Dream."

Dream's laughter died down after a few seconds, but not before he forced out another painful noise. "W-what do you mean why am _I_ like this? You were dumb enough to fall for it-"

"This man, _this_ man needs to go to therapy and find something better to do." Techno groaned out, slightly agitated.

"Oh well, even if Dream had just spammed me with urgent messages, it's not as if I'm extremely busy. I've been very lonely talking to myself, might as well join you guys. Are you all on the Dream SMP?" Wilbur questioned curiously, his mic fluctuating as he bent down to get something from the ground.

Techno interjected before Dream could even open his mouth. "Yeah, we _were_ on the SMP, before Dream dragged us over to the Parkour Warriors course to apparently 'practice'. As much as I want to believe that Dream has good intentions," he mumbled with an exasperated tone, "I believe that his only objective is to continue mocking me to my face about my apparent 'lacking' skills in this MCC game."

Dream snorted. "You know that I never meant to do anything to you all this time, Technoblade." 

"Right. If you could see me in real life, you'd probably see me _rolling my eyes_."

Wilbur sniggered. "You two have such a peculiar dynamic. What are you two up to now anyways, just Parkour Warrior?" the British brunet said, sounding genuinely interested at what they were doing. This was what Techno loved about hanging out with Wilbur Soot sometimes - he was a great listener and such a charismatic and chill person that he made him feel comfortable while together.

But his thoughts were interrupted once by Dream's insufferably infuriating voice. "Hey, Techno, you remember that deal we just made five minutes ago?"

A sigh. "Yes, my good friend Dream."

"C'mon, c'mon." Dream urged him to say the words, his excitement and mischief clearly transmitted through the voice channel.

"Okay, Wilbur, just a heads-up, _none_ of what I'm going to say next is because I want to. It is because of this _homeless_ green man who found something I said very very funny." Techno warned, his tiredness at Dream's hyperactive encouraging showing through his tone. Dream started to mildly protest, speaking in a higher-pitched voice. "I'm not homeless!"

Techno's lips twitched. "Oh yeah? Who refused to show me their _'_ _extremely large house'_ the other day and didn't refuse to me offering you my bed to set your spawn?"

Dream stammered slightly, though Techno didn't exactly know why he seemed to be feigning shame in front of just Wilbur and him in the Discord call. "Th-that was a circumstantial thing."

"You wanted to respawn in _my_ house if you died?"

Dream actually sounded a bit embarrassed. "Look, let's just not talk about that now, ok? Say the thing."

"Alright, alright," Techno sighed again while running a hand through his hair. "So it goes like this..."

"Yeah, cool, go on, I'm just gonna drink some water," Wilbur said amicably as they heard a cap open from his Discord icon in the channel.

"So, we were talking about the Parkour Warriors leaderboard and I called myself a bottom-"

But before Techno could finish the sentence, he was interrupted by Dream's large magnitude wheezes once again with the addition of Wilbur seeming to choke on liquids and coughing aggressively, beautifully forming a mass of unexpected earrape. After a second of absolute chaos, Dream tried to clear his throat, which was most likely still raw. "T-Techno, say the other-the other thing-" he managed to force out before he got overwhelmed by more of his painfully contagious laughing fits. Wilbur recovered after a few seconds, but his voice was now throaty and indignant. "Techno! That was a huge turn I wasn't expecting! Do you know what that means?!"

Techno slapped his hand onto his face so hard he was positive that his mic could pick it up. "That's the thing, _I don't know_! You tell me!"

Wilbur coughed again. "God my throat is burning - it means-"

Dream interrupted, recovered enough from his laugh to form coherent words. "Wait- wait Wilbur- let Techno say the other thing first-"

"Dream! Are you setting him up?!"

"Look, it's funny!"

Techno's eyebrows knotted. "Setting _what_ up? What does any of this even mean?" was all Techno could ask before Dream shushed him again. "Just say the other thing, _then_ we'll tell you about what it means," he declared, voice once again filled with fraudulent playfulness. "Yeah, Wilbur?"

"I mean- fine, I guess, what's the other thing? Techno?"

The man felt an urge to exit the call and end this slightly embarrassing moment for himself. "Basically..." he started innocuously, "after I said that, Dream had a gigantic laughing fit, and told me that it stands for the positions on the leaderboard, which I _highly_ doubt, by the way-" he grumbled as Dream let out a small snicker, "-so I just said that according to his logic, I'm a bottom and he's a top-" And as soon as he uttered that last word, Dream, including Wilbur, burst out into delirious and uncontrolled laughter.

Dream started to sound like a dying horse. "I'm crying, I'm literally crying, my stomach hurts _so_ bad-" he strangled out in a high-pitched breathy voice. Wilbur, on the other hand, sounded like he was beginning to die, his laughter rivalling Dream's pitch as Techno could hear him collapse back into his chair.

After what seemed like forever, their laughter died down, and Techno finally asked the burning question. "What's so funny?"

It seemingly acted as a catalyst as the two snorted violently again, trying to hold in their painfully bursting snickers. Wilbur sighed amusedly as he composed himself. "Techno... it doesn't mean what you think it means," he said, his voice out of breath.

"Yeah, I've basically figured that out," Techno snapped, though good-naturedly. "I just need to know if that'll get me cancelled, because if I say that on stream and get notified that I'm trending on Twitter five minutes later, I'm blaming the both of you."

Wilbur chuckled again. "No, it just means-"

"Wait wait wait Wilbur-" Dream interjected, "Let me send it to his DMs."

"Alright, you do it," Wilbur sniggered.

Techno waited in trepidation as he opened Dream's DMs, watching the three small dots against his name rise and fall in his open tabs while Dream occasionally giggled.

When Dream finally sent him the chunk of text he was desperately curious to read, Techno cleared his throat and read the first few words. "When two men..." But he stopped himself as his eyes scanned the rest of the text while Dream and Wilbur's cackles gradually became louder and louder the more he was silent.

Reading until the last parts of Dream's DM, Techno felt his face burn at the possible implications of his words. _If that was what it meant, then him and Dream..._

His mind started to conjure some regretful mental images, and he flushed harder, taking his hands off his setup and burying his face in them. "Oh god," his muffled voice came out from behind his hands, quiet and mortified as both Wilbur and Dream's laughs morphed into banshee screeches.

Dream tried to speak through his hysteria. "T-Techno, I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to-"

Techno snorted and let his hands fall onto his desk. "You didn't _mean_ to? What do you mean by that, idiot?" He retorted semi-playfully as Wilbur continued howling in the background, still greatly amused.

"Well, I thought it was funny-" Dream managed to speak out before melting into a puddle of wheezes again.

"Oh, so you thought it was funny, Dream. To hear me say these... well... suggestive terms?"

Dream's madness slowly died away, but it was mostly because he didn't know what Techno was getting at right now. "Uhh... kind of. Especially when you didn't know what they mean."

Techno tapped his fingers on the desk slowly, confidence returning. "So why didn't you tell me?" This was the first time Dream had ever presented to him his attitude in a new light.

"It would be taken pretty out of context, I suppose." Dream chuckled.

"So you just wanted to hear me... say those words to _you_ _,_ specifically?" Techno's voice turned up a pitch at the last few words, and Dream finally noticed that he was backed into a corner. "You know, anyone could listen to those words and laugh if they knew you didn't know about them," he tried to defend.

The trap was slowly readying itself for Dream as Techno laid down the small tidbits of bait that would lead his prey to the rope that would wrap around their limbs. It was at this point when Techno's perception of their relationship and Dream's stance on the current situation began to warp slightly. "You know... there's another thing that I didn't mention. You actually did ask me to repeat those words back to you. I'd assumed you would record them for blackmail, but perhaps you might have had an ulterior motive?"

Dream immediately went on the offence, facetiously threatened by Techno's slightly accusatory words. "Hey, I did nothing, and you have nothing to prove that I did say any of these things."

Techno continued nonetheless. "I can't really think of any other reason why you'd ask me to say it again. _Twice,_ " he added, "for that matter. You would've recorded the first time anyways, you're too smart of a guy to miss that. But why a second time?"

"Whaat? I absolutely have no idea what you're talking about, Technoblade." Dream did a sing-song tone, though a hint of nervousness was already detected by Techno in his voice.

He chuckled lowly, deepening his voice to a degree of hoarseness. "Unless you actually _wanted_ to hear it? Wanted me to say them to you? Why would you be interested in the fact that I called myself a _bottom_?" The blood rushed in his ears. Techno wasn't even sure if he should be feeling this way in the first place, slight adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Dream was nearing the trap.

The other laughed apprehensively. "So what if I did?" _So it's come to the point when he's not even defending them, he's making me say the reason outright._

_It wouldn't be a loss on my behalf._

"Do you want to top me, Dream?"

A second of restless stillness passed. Dream's words came a bit after. 

"And so what if I do?"

He stepped into the trap.

"I wouldn't mind, you know."

The call was penetrated with the thick awkward quietness of the remains of a couple's fight, but it was broken by Wilbur whispering into his mic moments after.

" _The girls are fighting._ "

Both Techno and Dream burst into laughter, unable to hold it in anymore. "Aha, you nearly got me there," Dream drawled. Techno could hear his grin through his voice.

"Funny little bit we did there. Still won't forgive you for lying to me about those words," Techno commented. "Might as well add that to my... ever expanding vocabulary."

"Hey, Techno... you know, there's still one little detail you haven't noticed throughout this entire conversation," Dream abruptly revealed, and Techno suddenly had a feeling of unease. Returning to his previously AFK Minecraft character, he hummed. "Yea?"

"Do you know exactly why I messaged Wilbur?"

He paused.

"Why?"

"Oh- you still don't know?"

Techno paused. "... know what? What else is there to know after you've just told me the absurdly very not family-friendly definitions of the words you baited me into speaking?"

Dream hesitated. "Well... Wilbur's... live," he slowly enunciated with a dubious yet amused voice.

Wilbur erupted into an explosion of snickers yet again. "Techno, have you really not realized I've been _live_ this entire time?"

"Wilbur's _live_?!"

The prospect of those embarrassing words being broadcasted to tens of thousands of people made Techno's previous 'confidence' crash down to Earth in a burning pile.

"My career. It's ruined. It's over for me, Wilbur. You're getting all my subs and I'm going to move to Alaska to become a hermit crab," Techno lamented as he laid his head against his desk, draping one hand over his eyes. His face was heated again. Unnecessarily.

Wilbur sighed. "Techno, I still can't believe you actually didn't know what they meant."

He articulated with his hands in front of him in mock frustration, even though he knew no one could see them. "Look, it isn't my fault. Tell Dream that."

Dream yelped. "Would you blame me for your lack of knowledge?! Can't believe you're like this. I'm unfriending you."

Techno frantically grabbed his mouse. "Wait, no, don't unfriend me. And, how would I even know? I just avoid things like that on the internet because, well, it's _weird_."

"How is it exactly weird? It's _common knowledge_."

"I don't know _why_ you think that's common knowledge. I don't read Wattpad unlike you, probably, with your own ships."

Wilbur let out a sigh again. "You two fight just like an old married couple."

"Don't refer to us as that, we're barely friends, I hate that Dream guy," Techno jokingly argued immediately against Wilbur's words.

Dream exaggeratedly let out an indignant gasp. "Can't believe you've done this."

"Can't believe you've _doomed_ me."

Techno couldn't help it as a grin crept up his face and the notion of _them_ warmed his heart in a strange way he's never felt before with him.

Should he even be thinking about him this way?

_I don't know._

Techno carelessly assumed that he wouldn't think about it too much.


	2. Raw emotions (2/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of 'Raw emotions'.
> 
> Part: 2/3, 4k words
> 
> Warning: Slight depiction of a panic attack.

Turns out, he gave it a lot more thought than he should've.

The monotone and repetitive noise of breaking netherrack was growing harsh to Technoblade's ears as he mowed through the nether landscape with ease in search of ancient debris.

As he mechanically placed beds, clicked on them and hopped into the blasted area, eyes scanning over the sea of red in search of a speck of brown, Techno's mind couldn't help but return to Dream.

 _Dream_ , of all people.

Everything about that man had been permanently stuck in a crevice of his mind since that 'incident' a week ago when they were on Parkour Warriors. Frustratingly so, Techno would say. Dream's words during that small bit still made him deliriously wonder if he did mean what he said that day.

Naturally, after Wilbur left the vc, Techno had immediately confided in Dream about that small bit and whether it would have made any impact on his career, and he reassured him, saying that it was just a small thing he would do with his friends and that it was funny while it lasted.

But that wasn't what Techno himself was worried about. 

Mostly, what concerned him was the impact of those words on the way that the internet interpreted his relationship with Dream.

Sure enough, he found shipping quite uncomfortable, but seeing Dream's carefree response to the situation, he didn't oppose to it either. In fact, after that event, during the one time he streamed, he had consequently been dono'ed several times asking about his stance on shipping, and he had just simply replied with 'Cringe but I don't care and don't shove it in my face'.

And of course, that went to many of his fans on Twitter. Looking through his fanart hashtag, it was no longer ship-free, and looking through people's discussions, he realized that after he had stated that he didn't care, more people emerged to support this particular ship.

Techno refrained from looking too much at the discussions about him and his content after that.

It wasn't a case of being uncomfortable, though he did interpret it as that for quite a while; in fact, he realized that instead of being uncomfortable, he was relatively lenient about toleration of the subject, and the reason why he avoided it so often was perhaps because...

Techno didn't want to give himself hope.

Perhaps it was the shipping, the fanfictions, or the ship art, but it endorsed his imagination about what _could_ be happening with him and Dream, and honestly it intrigued and scared him at the same time.

Everything reminded Techno of _Dream_ , and it just made him think back to that day.

Bold yet fragile realities of a calloused hand holding his, gently or leaving bruises. Carefree laughter reserved for him, just for him. A domestic life of _them_ , just them, no one else...

The soft, ethereal brush of foreign lips against his own.

It was bewitching like a siren's song. He hears the singing, and he knows it's dangerous, but he willingly sinks into the ocean and embraces the predatory arms of his thoughts that snare around him tighter than ever.

He was pitifully obsessed.

For god's sake, he didn't even know what the man looked like.

And so after the conversation between Dream, him and Wilbur, Techno started to avoid more of Dream. As soon as Dream joined group calls, he'd deafen when he got the chance and refrain from talking, and Dream's prodding messages were curtly answered and provided no leeway for casual banter, though that didn't stop him from looking through their past messages while trying to avoid that large block of text sent _that_ day.

Techno was sure Dream noticed his sudden distancing, but the other did nothing to stop him or talk about it. And however much he tried to tell himself it was Dream probably being considerate and giving him the temporary space he needed, his anxiety told him that he was avoiding him too.

Now that he's avoided contact with Dream, Techno realized just how much they were involved with each other. His Youtube recommended was filled with him and their compilations, their DMs were always open, full and inviting, and he constantly received frequent notifs from Dream's twitter posts. It was as if the world had decided that even though Techno wanted to tune him out, he could never escape Dream's presence.

So here he was, by himself, absorbed heavily in his own thoughts as his pickaxe carved a path through the netherrack.

 _Dream_. His heart stung like a piercing needle.

Techno wouldn't think about him. No, he _couldn't_. The man was like a drug, damaging and addictive, and once he yearned for a taste, he could fall in the endless swirling void.

Grumbling and closing his Minecraft tab after finding a secure place to AFK, Techno opened a new tab on Chrome and went to his bookmarks, searching for the one thing that would keep him slightly more sane - the VOD of Wilbur's stream.

He had begun to rewatch the VOD time to time to quench that thirsty absence of his friend's presence. Skipping to the timestamp he already knew by heart, he closed his eyes and let the words wash up on him like the soothing sea waves on a peaceful day.

"-you two have such a peculiar dynamic-" 

_I like Wilbur's accent._

"-what's so funny?"

_My ignorance._

"-you thought it was funny, Dream. To hear me say these... well... suggestive terms?"

_Did he think it was funny? Did he want to see me crumble under his words?_

"And so what if I do?"

_I wouldn't mind, you know._

"I wouldn't mind, you know."

Techno draped a hand over his eyes. _I'm such a hypocrite, avoiding him but seeking him out in the past._

Letting his hand fall, he mindlessly stared at Wilbur's knowing face, his wide eyes, and the wild scrolling of the chat beside him in mostly caps. Techno didn't bother to read it though, he knew it was them freaking out.

The Wilbur on his screen let out an exasperated and amused sigh. "You two fight just like an old married couple."

_Do we?_

His eyelashes fluttered closed again.

 _I have to stop doing this. It's poisonous._ Techno could feel his veins flowing with the seductive yet deadly honey of his unwarranted desire.

 _Dream_.

A Discord ping startled Techno from his thoughts. He had almost forgotten that he had unmuted the Dream SMP Discord server and joined an empty voice chat channel upon opening the SMP, staying there just in case anyone wanted to talk. And honestly, at this point he just had to admit that he maybe wanted Dream to notice and join, or even mention him... maybe.

But it wasn't Dream who pinged him, and in fact, the person who pinged was surprisingly _Quackity_ , who was, for a fact, streaming (Techno had since made it a habit to have his fellow DSMP members' notifications on in order to avoid another situation like with Dream and Wilbur). Thank god Techno opened the general chat in time, or Quackity would've destroyed his ears with spam pings.

 **@Technoblade** join vc 3  
 **@Technoblade** join vc 3  
 **@Technoblade** join vc 3  
 **@Technoblade** join vc 3  
 **@Technoblade** join vc 3

Techno rolled his eyes in mock annoyance as he quickly typed 'one second' to stop Quackity from overflowing the chat. As his eyes flicked to the channel Quackity was in, his attention only fixated on one name.

Dream.

He stopped breathing for a moment before collecting his thoughts and haphazardly throwing them into the back of his brain. It was Dream, Quackity, Badboyhalo, and Skeppy in a call, and he wasn't alone.

Techno dreaded clicking the channel, but he did anyway.

"Hullo," he said good-naturedly, trying not to focus on Dream's silent icon.

"TECHNOBLADE! AAAAA-" Quackity disconnected and Techno snorted, knowing that it was his fun little bit again.

Once Quackity rejoined, Techno huffed and sighed. "State your intentions, Crackity."

The Mexican clapped his hands together. "HOW ARE YOU DOING TODAY, THE BLADE?" He shouted, almost decimating Techno's ears that were trained for the past hour to listen to almost pure white noise.

"To be honest, not very good, had a lot on my mind," Techno said pleasantly, making sure that his voice wouldn't falter. "I've just been mindlessly grinding. Why did you spam ping me a thousand times?"

Quackity laughed and did his 'o-ho' thing again. "Today you are here to help me do couples therapy!"

"Why are you like this," Techno mumbled quietly as Quackity burst out into roaring laughter and clapped again. "Let's go, let's fucking go~~!"

Bad yelled. "Language!"

"LANGUAGE MY ASS, WE'RE POPPING OFFFF!"

Skeppy grimaced. "Don't yell at Bad!"

Techno couldn't help but notice that Dream was silent this entire time, and he didn't know how to feel about that, seeing that he wanted to talk to badly to him and hear his stupid therapeutic voice, but he doesn't want to indulge anymore in what he's fantasizing about.

"So, who are we doing couples therapy for?" He inquired, voice already infused with his usual boredom and monotone style.

"We're doing it for Bad, Skeppy, Dream and GEORGE! George must be sleeping, I'm gonna facetime and annoy the fuck out of him, here are the co'ords Techno-" Quackity quickly said as he sent a pair of numbers to Techno's in-game chat.

Techno tuned out the laughing as he cleaned up his inventory, put his collected ancient debris in his ender chest and hopped out of the nether to the coordinates. Quackity was cracking jokes and cackling to George's indignance at waking him up at such an ungodly hour in Britain, while in the background Bad and Skeppy quietly chatted and Dream... Dream stayed relatively silent until Quackity asked him to persuade George to come online.

It was refreshing to hear Dream's voice with no restraints, but Techno's finger itched to click the deafen button on his Discord tabs. He made him want to talk to him again, and honestly Techno didn't know if he was ready to or if he could. Techno was scared, and a pounding feeling in his heart told him that he'd be unable to restrain himself from spilling his troubled thoughts once Dream confronts him directly.

When he finally arrived at the spot that Quackity was at, he saw a makeshift talkshow-like box with a few seats and a small 'table'. Techno spotted Bad and Skeppy crouching in a corner, doing their own thing while Georgenotfound had already logged on, attempting to punch Quackity while he screamed for him to stop as Dream let out his infamous kettle wheeze.

"STOP! STOP, GEORGE! LITERALLY, STOP!"

"No, you made me get out of my comfy bed and now you have to suffer the consequences," the British's accent was marred with slight sleepiness, but also infused with a sharpness that could only be correlated to irritation.

"Techno, Technoblade help!" Quackity suddenly shouted, running towards his in-game character while George chased him like a feral menace.

Techno barked in laughter. "Oh, I'd rather not, Quackity. Dream would _kill_ me if I hurt his boyfriend."

He could imagine the chat exploding as he made another DNF joke.

For what seems like the first time in ages, Dream chuckled lightly with him. "No, no, go ahead, you can kill him," the man chortled.

How he missed talking to him albeit the purposeful distancing.

"DREAM!-" George screamed as he heard him agree to Techno hunting him down (again). "You've betrayed me. Do you still remember when Technoblade made me combat-log when I mentioned his cows?"

"I have _absolutely_ no idea what you're talking about," Techno airily said.

He guess he could indulge in this bit a while longer.

Once they settled down (and once Quackity was beaten to an inch of his in-game life), they crouched around the table and Quackity began.

"Ok, with Dream as my assistant, we managed to restore Bad and Skeppy's relationship in _prime_ condition-", both of them giggled, "-and now, it's Dream and George's turn!"

Techno grinned as he saw the two awkward figures crouching on the other side of the table. "So I'm here... as your new assistant," he mused.

"Yeah! So I'll raise a few topics, and you'll give a few questions."

"Alright."

"Okay, okay, everything's good. So, we're gonna start off with the things you hate about each other the most. George," Quackity's Minecraft character turned towards George's crouching one, "start with what you hate about Dream the absolute most. No need to hold back."

"Uh... I actually don't know."

"Ah, eh, you're so boring, George... Dream! Dream, tell us what you hate about George the most."

Dream's character's head swerved around a few times as he stayed in silence for a small moment. "Uhm... George is... clingy."

Techno watched as Quackity jumped around, making a few monkey noises. "Oh my god."

George scoffed. "Dream, I might have to say that about you. You're clingier than I ever will be."

Quackity ooh'ed. "THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING! THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING!"

Dream snickered. "George, you're just so argumentative."

"You know, to be argumentative there has to be someone else that's willing to argue."

Techno and Quackity both let out 'ooh's as they watched and heard George mercilessly burn Dream.

This went on for a while, as Quackity asked more and more personal (and admittedly embarrassing) questions, there were plenty of laughs exchanged and a few indignant exclaims. Techno laughed with them; it wasn't as if he could do anything else. Although everything was in good nature and it was extremely funny watching them scramble for answers, he couldn't help but marvel at Dream and George's dynamic and just how unbelievably _compatible_ they were, as if they were made for each other. Their fans seem to agree so too.

He couldn't stop the pang of envy that rang through his heart like a heavy strike to a large gong, the waves rippling over and over, reminding him of their distance.

"Hey, Techno, tell them to do something," Quackity nudged him as he tried to hold his laughter in while Dream started to argue with George in the background (how ironic). Techno tapped his chin in thought, while drawing out a long sound of ponder. "Uhhhhhh... I don't know."

"Oh jeez, you're so lame, dry-ass- hey, Dream, George! If either of you cheated, how would you react?"

Techno could hear Dream's laugh a thousand times louder than any other person's voice in the vc. "Hm, if I discovered that George cheated... I'd probably just do nothing and break up." The way Dream's words came out sickeningly sweet made his stomach churn a bit.

George cackled. "If Dream cheated on me, I'd hunt him and his lover down."

Quackity laughed. "Oh boy, then you'd have to hunt down Dream and ten others soon enough, this man has more affairs than I can count. Honestly, Dream, get a life," he continued, smirk evident in his voice.

Abruptly, Dream surprisingly agreed. "I mean, George _does_ have to hunt me down right about now if that's true."

"Why?" George's teasing and inquisitive voice filled the channel.

"Well, you see, it's because my heart is stolen by someone else now."

The voice chat exploded as Quackity let out a furious "Dream!" and George shouted "WHAT?", while Bad and Skeppy started yelling as well. Techno's heart plummeted. He didn't like this feeling. He didn't like how his mind told him to run away. He didn't like how uneasy his heart pounded. Even though it was just a small bit. Even though-

"My heart has been taken... by the assistant counselor!"

A big silence overtook the call.

Techno's heart stopped falling. "Heh??" He managed to vocalize. His words received no response.

Quackity started to speak, sounding like he had just covered his mouth, absolutely mortified. "Oh my god... an affair right in front of our eyes... this is treason..."

Skeppy let out a shameless snort. "Hey, Techno... how come I've never known that the 'no bitches' joke was fake?" He received a punch from Bad.

For the first time since he joined the call and for the first time in nearly a week, Techno's heart and being began to bloom and come alive as Dream laughed into his mic again.

"Hey Techno, take me away before George hunts us down."

Techno couldn't breathe. His words paralyzed him. For once, he was at a slight loss, and the only thing he could automatically reply with was his instinctual dark humor. "Oh, well, I'm not doing that, George's going to kill me and you'll be alone forever." But once his words came out, Techno realized how reluctantly loving he sounded.

Dream definitely heard it.

"I can't believe you've done this, Dream," George accused, but everyone knew that George was grinning.

Dream snickered again and punched Techno's character as he began to put on his own armor. "George, you're really gonna go against the _both_ of us Minecraft gods?" He mocked. Quackity gasped dramatically.

Techno unconsciously refused. "Hey, I never said I'm running with you. _I'm_ innocent, _you're_ not. George, beat and mess him up however you want."

Dream sighed. "Can't believe my only love has betrayed me."

"No, no, no, no no no, not your love."

"What!? After all these years-"

" _No,_ Dream."

It wasn't until Quackity yelled and started attacking the both of them with George (and Bad and Skeppy who found this hilarious), when Techno dubiously followed Dream as he bounded out of the small room, axe in hand already.

The chase was on; George and Quackity were hot on their heels, armor on and weapons in hand, while both Skeppy and Badboyhalo lagged behind, laughing. Dream and Techno were side by side, both wielding their respective weapons, expertly sprint-jumping down the prime path and occasionally turning around to feint a hit at George.

"Techno, what d'you say about turning around and taking the both of them down?" Dream shouted loudly over the screams of George and Quackity.

Techno laughed sharply. "I didn't even bring my big weapons and all I have right now is the Orphan Obliterator! How am I supposed to commit homicide and massacre those idiots without my Axe of Peace or my Rocket Launcher? Speaking of which, I _still_ have not managed to kill George as he's always asleep-"

"You can kill him later, let's go to the nether."

Quackity shouted. "Go, go, go! This is an authorized police chase! Weewoo-" he stopped for a second before Techno realized he was turning on his voicechanger, "- _weewooweewoo-_ "

The loud chuckles of everyone followed the two as they stepped into the portal and simultaneously hit the two chasing people back, their visions warped by the purple. Once they were on the other side, Dream punched a direction and Techno just knew where they were headed.

"This-this is just exactly like the chase I did with mexican Dream-" Dream wheezed as they traversed the burning netherrack and lava pools, narrowly missing possible in-game death. Techno snickered with him as he heard the wheeze that replayed in his dreams ever so often these few days.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I WAS SO SCARED!" Quackity screamed from behind them as George burst into a fit of laughter.

The following few minutes was a chaotic mess as Quackity shrieked curses and George hollered orders and screamed too when either of the dangerous duo turned around to deliver a hit or two. Bad and Skeppy shot their fire arrows from a distance as all of their voices blended into a mass of noise, occasionally penetrated by Dream's violent kettle wheeze, Techno's barking laugh, and Quackity's crackling voice changer.

Eventually after a while of absolute mayhem, Techno lagged behind of Dream, and Quackity yelled "STOP RIGHT THERE!" as he took out his netherite axe and aimed it at him, while George stood on the other side of Techno, sword out menacingly. Bad and Skeppy caught up and aimed their crossbows at him. Techno was in an uncomfortably tight spot.

"Dream, if you don't stop, we're gonna hurt your lover here," Quackity jokingly threatened as Dream stopped in his tracks, the faceless green head of his character turning to meet all of their eyes. He hesitated, before walking slowly down the netherrack-ridden parkour course towards Techno's still figure.

"You know, you can just leave, I can't die anyways," Techno couldn't help but prod as Dream walked to beside him and followed as the group escorted them back to the portal to the overworld.

"I could never leave you behind, dear," Dream gushed cheesily as George and Quackity giggled once again uncontrollably.

 _Dear_.

Techno lowered his voice, slightly embarrassed. "Don't call me that, you're making me think we really _are_ a thing." And in a melancholic sense, he wasn't being sarcastic.

"Are we not? I'm hurt."

"Please never refer to me as your friend again..."

"Get a room, stop farming aww's in my chat," Quackity commented brashly, his voice descending to more sniggers as George joined in on teasing Dream.

As they idly chattered while walking to the small overworld 'jail', Techno zoned out and zoomed in on Dream's words. _Dear_. 

It wasn't until Quackity punched him and received the hard end of his Thorns armor when he finally returned to reality and stepped into the small cell with Dream, saying "Don't mind me" as the rest died of wild laughter seeing Quackity ironically die from Techno's armor.

"Alright, you both are just where you should be after wronging me," George threateningly spoke, turning the lever on and pushing the pistons up so Dream and Techno were trapped in a one-by-two-by-two space, barely having enough comfort to 'breathe'.

Techno groaned. "Oh, this is the end of me, stuck in a one-by-two cell with my infamous rival Dream. I'd rather die, but I technically can't."

"What, you're not looking forward to spending more quality time with me, Techno?" Dream said as he crouched and walked to one corner of the small room, feigning sadness.

He snorted ungracefully, punching the green figure. "See, what _I'm_ not looking forward to is this Enemies to Lovers arc you keep on seeking."

"It's a good dynamic."

"Not with you and me."

Quackity clapped. "Alright, enough flirting! Listen up, you're both on trial for cheating on Georgenotfound-"

Techno smirked as he interrupted. "I'm not very inclined to listen to this, and it'd be pretty stupid, wouldn't you say, Dream?"

"I agree, Bacon."

He ignored the playful nickname and took out his netherite pickaxe. "Aaaaand I'm out, you nerds will never get a chance to catch me," Techno drawled as he mined the rails of the cell and bounded out, Dream following while the rest yelled in unison, jumping up to follow them.

"You could've left me behind, slow down, I can't follow your bizarre thought process," Dream muttered.

"It's up to you, loverboy." The nickname slipped out of Techno's lips. He didn't bother anymore.

The bit went on for a moment longer until it wore off its charm, and Quackity was ready to end his stream.

"Thank you guys so much for joining this bit, and I hope you guys had a good time," Quackity sweetly exclaimed as his boisterous persona shed off at the near end of his stream. Techno preferred a quieter Quackity; nonetheless, either was always his friend.

"Bye," everyone said in sync as Quackity deafened in the call, perhaps to say goodbye to his chat.

This was when everything suddenly toppled for Techno.

It was all a bit.

It was all a bit.

_It was all a bit._

Techno could feel his muscles all of a sudden, feeling stressfully taut all this time as he tiredly complied with Dream's leading and flirting and Quackity's influence. Now that the immediate threat of the presence of an audience was gone, he relaxed, but he didn't know just how much of his intrusive thoughts he forced to sleep at the back of his mind existed. They now rebounded back with a force heavier than ever, his almost drunken words returning to his memory.

_You can just leave, I can't die anyways._

_"I could never leave you behind, dear."_

_"I can't follow your bizarre thought process."_

_It's up to you, loverboy._

Everything suddenly crashed down, not with a huge shatter, nor with a gigantic crunch, but with a dull thud like the imminent drums of doom. What had he said? What had _they_ said? What had _they done_?

_Stop giving me hope._

_Stop talking like that to me._

_Stop talking to Geor- stop, stop stop stopstopstop-_

_Stop talking to_ me _._

Techno's head began to pound heavily as his breathing rate increased steeply, his worries and anxiety skyrocketing. His audience, Dream, himself. What would happen? The ships? His content?

The heart beating erratically in his chest filled his ears, nose, mouth, tongue, body. Blood in his ears. Blood in his veins. Stars in his eyes. Stars in the sky. Memories of them. Memories of _him_.

What if _this_ , what if _that_ , what if what if what if-

A blurred voice edging between fantasy and reality.

"-Techno? Technoblade?"

Techno raised his head that he didn't know he buried into his sleeved arms, hands shaking like he just got struck by lightning.

Dream's concerned voice overwhelmed his senses, echoing therapeutically through his headphones. "Techno, breathe. You're okay."

Techno felt irrationally angry all of a sudden. Why could Dream calm him down? Why is it Dream? Why is it always him? Why?

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Dream," he hissed harshly, his breathing still heavy and suffocatingly exhausting.

The call went eerily silent - this was the first time Techno had sworn and used such an enraged and bitter tone.

"T-Techno?" 

Damn it, why did Dream's voice have to be so insufferably and attractively vulnerable?

"Don't... don't talk to me, prick." The unfamiliarly sharp words rolled off his tongue like he practiced a thousand times before.

Dream's voice for once was trembling slightly, his usual calmness and cockiness gone. "Did I do anything-"

" _Everything_."

The uncanny silence after his words made everything worse, so he spoke without jurisdinction.

"Why did you do that? Why? I'm sick. I'm sick of it. Don't do that. I hate it. I hate it _so_ much." Techno was on the verge of another attack.

"Why- what- why did I do _what_?"

"You know. You _know_ what you did."

Another period of absolute speechlessness from everyone except Quackity, who was still deafened and finishing up his stream.

"Techno... are you alright?" This time it wasn't Dream, but it was Skeppy, his worry evident through his tone.

"No shit, I'm _not_ alright." Techno swore again, his gravelly voice tired. "I'm going now," he gruffly stated, voice barely above a whisper.

"Just know that I- we're here for-"

 _Leave call_.


	3. Raw emotions (3/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the ending of 'Raw emotions'.
> 
> Part: 3/3, 4k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speedrunning this since I want to start my current oneshot plans! Updates will be (mostly) slower from now on.

The entire channel sat in absolute sullenness as Techno left the call before Skeppy could finish his sentence. He faltered mid-word, before dropping it and sighing heavily.

George was the first to break the silence. "Dream... you shouldn't have..."

Dream exhaled raggedly into the side of his arm, gripping his mouse tightly. "Yeah... I know. Should've figured that out by now..." His mouth was thick with cotton and every word needed effort in order to not suddenly release the pressured choking sob he had trapped in his throat.

He had royally messed up.

That secret admiration and love had seeped out too much.

He knows.

He probably also doesn't.

Dream let out a short breath. "Yeah... whoever's streaming next, I'm not going to join, I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Dream. Go sort your issues." Bad gently said, his usually high voice low and soothing.

It was at this moment that Quackity undeafened, having finally bid goodbye to his stream. "Bad, I was going to host and raid you but you weren't live yet- where's Techno?" His voice was lower and much less hyper off stream, and Dream appreciated this part of Quackity for once.

Before anyone could cut in, Dream quickly spoke. "Uh, Techno said that he's tired and he was going to leave, so he may not appear in Bad's stream today."

"Oh. Hope he's fine," Quackity shrugged off the issue carelessly.

"I gotta go too. Talk to you all later." The words tumbled automatically out of Dream's mouth as his mouse already hovered above the leave call button.

The rest of the call murmured a quiet goodbye as Dream clicked off, no longer hearing their voices. He closed the Minecraft tab as well, for once the sight of squares giving him nausea.

Dream sat in his chair.

He drew up his knees.

He felt the hot tears slide down his cheeks unwarrantedly.

_I'm sorry because of my selfishness._

He didn't know when this soft yet intrusive admiration for his friend started. Perhaps it was one day when they were talking, when Techno laughed genuinely and lowly at his jokes that caused his heart to skip a beat and want him to hear more of that melodic bass. Perhaps it was one day when they were on the SMP, mining together for ancient debris when Techno gave him half a stack of his golden apples to make sure he didn't die even though he had full enchanted netherite. Perhaps it was when he realized that he couldn't live and love without hearing his voice, his laugh, his banter, without seeing that in-game tag, without their constant bickering, without their friendly rival-like status.

Dream had daydreamed about them. One day, if his ridiculous reverie ever came true, would they hold hands? Would Dream hear Techno's rough morning voice as they wake up, tangled in each other's scent and arms? Would he feel those almost non-existent lips, and crave more of their sweet taste?

_Mindless illusions._

He had thought that, with a dangerous and deadly delusion, Techno _might_ have been into him that day when they were on the Parkour Warrior server. 

Looks like he was wrong.

He had thought that there would be no harm in pushing the fragile yet flexible boundaries between them, thin enough to dissolve, diffuse. And so he indulged, he indulged in the sickening sweetness of the poisoned ambrosia he had stolen from the gods, like an addict to a drug, like a gambler to Russian roulette.

He did, and he fell, not so gracefully.

The held-in cries painfully forced themselves out in small, pitiful whines. Dream's body shook as the fragility ripped through his invincibility, eyes tightly shut while the void of his rejection and uncertainty sucked him in mercilessly.

What was he going to do now?

Dream's eyes flew open as his mouse guided him to Quackity's Recent Broadcasts tab. Clicking on the most recent stream, he frantically tapped around for the correct timestamp where Techno joined the call, and once he found it, he closed his eyes and let the monotone and nervous voice cleanse him.

It hurt. It hurt like hell, making him constantly think back to Techno's bitter and ruthless words. 

The one small nickname stuck with him.

 _Loverboy_.

He _was_ a loverboy, a loverboy taunted by reveries of an unachievable life, a loverboy who went too far.

Hoping made him hurt so much more.

_"Don't talk to me, prick."_

_I'm sorry._

_"Why did you do that? Why?"_

_I love you._

_"You_ know _what you did."_

_I do._

Dream calmed himself down.

Slowly grasping for his phone which was facing down on his desk, he mindlessly opened Twitter, where he could see what had happened after the stream and how everyone's fans had reacted.

Many people were mostly freaking out over Dream's constant prodding with Technoblade, and included small clips of their interactions.

Ship content. That was probably why Techno lashed out.

Dream breathed out. He thought it was going to be way worse.

Looking back up at his monitor screen, Dream stared at the endless scrolling of Quackity's chat as they pursued the two, and they were actually rooting for the both of them.

For once, Dream let the possibility take over. That he and Techno could become a thing. Nonetheless, it was already impossible from the start.

His slightly trembling fingers paused the Twitch VOD and opened Discord again to find Techno's icon still indicating he was online.

The mouse icon hovered over the call button.

Dream clicked.

The harsh idle ring of the Discord call almost spelled out his imminent doom. Dream was one call away from destroying his friendship, one click away from permanently stagnating his and Techno's relationship, and one word away for Techno's disgust and contempt to reach him. Everything was just so perilous, but Dream persisted. The palms of his hand became sweaty as the call request went on and on...

Until no one answered.

He was positive Techno was there, online and probably saw it. It's just that he didn't even touch their DMs _once_. 

Dream's heart dropped.

Was this it? Did he destroy this temporary bliss?

Nothing much bothered Dream, but now, the anxiety of a lost friend and a lost love tore him to pieces.

Patches meowed, sitting beneath his chair, concerned.

"What am I supposed to do, Patches?" Dream scooped her up, cradling her gently to his chest.

There were fresh hot tears again.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, crying idly with his comforting pet beside him. The sky outside grew dark, the evening swallowed the light, and all that illuminated his desk and face was the blinding glow of the monitor. He impulsively checked the time. 10 PM.

Still no returning call.

He tossed his phone across the room onto his bed.

But just at this moment, a Discord call ring destroyed his ears, and Dream's head snapped up from between his arms, scrambling for his mouse.

 _Techno_?

Oh, it was George.

Dream clicked the accept button. "Hey." He cringed at how wasted he sounded; his voice was deep and hoarse, and he sounded like he had a bad case of a hangover. He cleared his throat a bit before talking more. "What d'you call me for?"

George sighed. "Dream, I'm worried about you," his calm and hesitant tone soothing Dream's uptight nerves.

"I- there's nothing wrong, George, I'm just a bit tired," Dream exhaled, the past few hours becoming a pounding headache in his memory.

"There clearly is. I'm not here to pity you or anything," George added, "I'm just here if you want to talk about it. Even _I_ didn't know you..."

Dream inhaled harshly. "Felt this way?"

"... yeah."

"... George, I just can't help it. I don't know at this point if he's going to... continue talking to me. He fuels me. I figured out how I felt some time ago, and I think I've crossed a line."

George scoffed, the hints of an exasperated laugh in his voice. "You _definitely_ crossed a line."

He absentmindedly stroked the purring cat in his lap, the sound reverberating through the quiet atmosphere in the night. "I... I thought that I could just live in this dream for a while... how ironic. George," Dream bitterly laughed, "My mind is all him. Every day."

"Alright, I don't need specifics," George chuckled. "If you care so much, just talk to him."

"Is it that easy?"

"It is." George simply said.

"I don't know if I can face him after he... after _that_ ," Dream confessed. "Just because I feel guilty. I've never felt so anxious about these kind of things, I just want to talk to him again normally."

George snorted. "Then again, it's that simple. Go talk."

"You're not very helpful."

"One of my best qualities."

"... Thank you anyways."

"Glad to be of absolutely no help."

"So... I'll call him again."

"Call until he responds," George chortled jokingly before he ended the call and the quiet night poured into Dream's ears again.

He clicked on his and Techno's DMs. The last message of a goodbye seemed too good to be true, too close, too friendly. He was still online. The menacing red circle on the bottom right corner of his stupid profile picture seemed to taunt Dream of his mistakes.

Dream hesitated upon hovering his mouse above the call button. He was a click away from doom or release, but most importantly, a click away from hearing his voice and speaking to him again. He didn't think he'd have such a strong yearning to hear the other's monotone voice ever.

Breathing deeply, he pressed the button.

The uncannily cheery Discord ringtone made him dread about what was to come.

He didn't know if he wanted the other to pick up or ignore it. On one hand, he was verging on the edge of destroying everything they've built, and on the other, even more dreadfully, he would see what they've built crumble to dust slowly, only for Dream to look upon it as everything deteriorates, while the other would probably leave the ruin in apathy.

Dream didn't know which was worse.

He jumped when the outgoing call's ringtone stopped, and looking up quickly and almost snapping his neck, he saw that Techno had accepted his voice call request.

He froze entirely, not daring to make a noise or even breathe as creeping apprehension crawled around him, filling his body with a bone chilling cold, yet at the same time doused with the burning magma of hope.

It was at this moment he spoke. "Dream," Techno said.

Dream stiffened, the tone in Techno's voice too recognizable, too distant. The stiffness of his words seemed to ignite Dream, as he finally willed his frozen muscles to relax and breathe. He realized he was gripping the edge of his table firmly, and letting go, felt blood rush back into his fingers. _I'm okay. I have to talk._

"Hey... Techno." He winced as his voice came out vulnerable and hoarse, loud enough to be picked up by his mic yet quiet enough to show his current state of mind.

"Why did you call me?" Techno distantly said again, delivering another harsh blow to Dream's feelings. He hated the overbearing emotion of deliberate isolation.

"I... just needed to talk to you."

"About what?"

He was forcing him to say it. "About today."

A moment of silence. "There's nothing to talk about today, Dream. I'm leaving the call," Techno quietly muttered.

Dream's heart palpitated violently. "No, wait! Listen to me-" he half-demanded, his desperation fueled by his desire to explain himself.

" _You_ listen!" Techno suddenly snapped, startling Dream with the intensity of the raw emotion in his voice. "You think that it'd be funny? Funny to talk to me like _that_?" 

"I-" Dream became temporarily speechless as Techno spoke again, completely unprompted.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Dream, I hate it when that happens," he spat venemously, his words sharper than any sword he could drive through Dream with. "I feel like I don't even _know_ you anymore."

 _That's because you probably don't. Not after I've had these feelings for you._ "Look, I'm sorry-"

"You're not sorry for _anything_. I don't believe it. Why would you be when you just so clearly sat there as you... _you_..."

Techno's sudden outburst seemed to be over as he tried to find his words. Dream took advantage of that temporary silence.

"I- I had a reason as to why I spoke with you like that."

"What _possible_ reason?! To humiliate me? To embarrass me? To- to watch me as I crumble under those meaningless words?"

"What do you mean 'crumble'-"

Techno laughed incredulously, the sound painful instead of soothing and reassuring to Dream's ears. "You knew what you were doing, didn't you? Why? Why would you?"

"I did," Dream finally whispered, feeling the winds of conflict forcefully turn his core inside out.

"So you did, Dream." The other seemed to recover from his sudden outbreak, as his tone shifted a note lower, reverbrating through Dream's bones deeply. "You're cruel."

"Why am I...?"

"You make me think of you," Techno mumbled, almost drunkenly, even. "You make me think of your stupid voice every day since then."

Dream's torn heart fluttered. "Since when?"

"Since you told me those words. Ridiculous, right? Stupid to think that some fanfiction vocabulary would make me think of you all day, everyday." Techno's voice muffled a bit as Dream assumed he covered his face.

Those words were like fresh water in a desert to Dream as he felt rejuvenated after what seemed like forever. "How much?"

"Every waking moment. And I hate you for it."

"Oh."

Silence consumed the call after Techno's confession. 

"Say _something_ , Dream." Techno's voice, for the first time since Dream called, trembled with anticipation and fear. "Say something so I won't feel like you'll leave this with nothing."

Dream opened his mouth. "Techno... I think about you. A lot, in fact."

"Really?" A lower gravelly texture to the already inticingly bewitching voice.

"Yeah... since every day."

"..." 

Dream's entire body shook slightly as he peeled away his defenses one by one, exposing his inner thoughts. "That's also part of the reason why I was like that today."

"Flirting?"

"Mmm."

Techno sighed, a chuckle escaping his mouth. There was no way he didn't know what Dream was talking about right now, yet he's not saying anything about it. 

"You know, it's painful," Techno started, "having to think about someone when you feel like they don't share the same sentiment."

"Your words, they're painful. I love them. I love how you're there. Making my heart beat. Every beat a new needle stabbed into my chest. It hurts _so good_." 

Dream listened in disbelieving awe. He could almost feel the wings of liberation and release growing from him, saving him from the tendrils of dark doom.

"I've never thought about anyone this intensely, this overwhelmingly. You're the only exception throughout the past week." Techno's voice, if even possible, seemed to lower another octave. "You're carving me open, carving your name onto my mind. And worst of all-" he laughed bitterly, "-I loved _every_ part of it."

As he stopped in his words, Dream felt the air in his lungs keeping him alive and soaring above the clouds and above the sky. "What am I to _you_ , then?" He asked breathlessly.

"An echo in a closed cave," Techno mused. "You just keep reverbrating and multiplying in my mind, and you're making it burst."

It was as if the world came together and clicked in one piece. It might have felt cliché to others, but to Dream it was exactly how he made it to be.

"Techno, I-"

"I don't know how you're going to react to this, and I don't want to know. You can leave all you want, and I probably won't follow." 

"No- _please_ \- let me say something," Dream pleaded pitifully, the emotions in his chest threatening to explode.

Techno fell silent, presumably to let him talk.

Dream took a deep breath, his chest bursting with this newfound knowledge. "Look, I don't know how to put this... _eloquently_ ,like you just did, English major," he laughed softly. "The reason why I think of you is simple. You're just such an... intriguing person. Every part of you attracts me in; your voice, your _dumb_ sense of humor-" Techno scoffed, "-and the prospect of... _you_."

He could audibly hear Techno draw air in through his teeth. "So tell me, _why_? I'm not charismatic, I'm not social, I'm not the greatest listener, so why?"

Dream smiled. "You're charming in your own way. Your humor draws in your audience. You aren't very social, but I don't care about that, you talked to _me_. And you listen when I need you to. You're perfect," he dove into his quagmire of fervor, voice lifting. "There might just have been billions or even _trillions_ of outcomes that this world could've taken through its course of time, and I'd probably fall for you, _every_ single one of them."

"Pulling the manhunt speech out, are we?" Dream could hear Techno's smirk and his own grin grew wider.

"I'm not as creative as you with words, Techno."

"Nonetheless," Techno muttered, "what happens... now?"

"I don't know. You?"

"It's all so new."

They fell into a comfortable quietness, the occasional tap of a finger on a desk or a slightly louder exhale melting into the white noise around them.

"Dream... I can't say I love you just yet."

"I know. _I_ love you, though."

"... Thank you?"

"No problem-" Dream burst out laughing. The euphoria trapped inside of him was too much to handle. "-I'm so happy, Technoblade."

"I know. I'm happy too," Techno sighed contently. "Soon it might be time to consider a meetup of sorts."

"Are you coming?"

"Definitely, one day."

"And what about now? They've heard you almost sever your friendship with me."

"What do you say we mess with them a while longer?"

"Sounds cool to me."

-

Turns out, 'a while longer' became four whole months.

Dream and Techno, being the crazy invested people they were, managed to fool their friends and their fans deliberately.

After Techno's 'performance' in the Couples Therapy vc, the small argument had spread slightly among the content creators, and Wilbur had not once, but twice threatened to twist Dream's neck (to which Techno profusely said "Wilbur, you'll be in prison for that"), while Tommy, for quite a while, refused to be in any individual call with Dream (unless it was lore, in which Tommy was stiff to the point when his audience noticed).

Sure, it was grueling for Dream to recieve the blunt end of Techno's protective friends, but hearing Techno's refreshing and loving voice and not the strained acted distancing of when they were in group calls after streams was always worth it, and Techno also had tried his best to tell his friends he was alright.

It always hurt when they had to avoid talking to each other under scrutiny of either their fans or their friends, but the late night calls eased their nerves, and readied them for another day of enduring.

They were ridiculously determined.

Eventually, two months in, their fans had finally caught up after subtle cues they had implemented whenever anyone was streaming in a call with them, and they went into a hot debate about what had happened between the two since the Quackity stream in which they last appeared in, seemingly still on good terms.

When dono'ed about it, Techno would subtly avoid the questions and talk about other things, and of course his followers were even more determined to get to the bottom of this.

No one had known, Techno had travelled straight to Florida a while after, or that he'd met Dream and told him for the first time, "I love you".

No one had known, they lived their dreams, in soft kisses, strong arms, shared laughter.

No one had known that they loved each other.

Probably except George, who naturally found out after Dream didn't have the heart to say 'he rejected me' after George proposed for him to call Techno.

Well, until one day.

Four months later on a lazy afternoon, Dream was in a call with a few other people in casual streams, just vibing with each other in the vc while they all grinded for resources on the Dream SMP or messed around, killing each other. It was just Dream, George, Quackity and Karl, randomly chatting with Callahan at the sidelines, trying to punch Karl to death.

"And so, you see-" Quackity continued, "Pauline and Lois were sitting together! They were fucking _tickle buddies_ during knitting class! Don't laugh at me-" he yelled as the call burst into howling laughter again at the retelling of the story of Quackity's middle school crush.

"Oh, imagine if Pauline could see you now, she honked up ," Karl cackled, running in the distance to the Holy Land as Callahan chased him, spamming punches behind him. "Callahan, stop!"

 **< Callahan>** give me my helmet

"Never- AAAAA-"

Dream and the others laughed more as Karl's ridiculously high screech interrupted the casuality of the call.

A small knock on Dream's door alerted him. "One sec guys," he started as he absentmindedly pressed the mute key, took off his headphones and opened the door gently.

"Hey, what's wrong, babe?" He smiled softly as Techno reached in and wrapped his arms around Dream's waist, the tenderness of the gesture making him hug his slightly shorter figure back. "You alright?"

"Mmm..." Techno pressed his face against him. "A little tired."

"Hey, wanna go watch a movie later? I'm on the SMP right now."

"Cuddles?"

"Yeah, I'll go join you in a while."

"Ok."

Dream affectionately ruffled Techno's fluffy hair as he let go and trudged to the couch, yawning.

Scooting back into his chair, he put on his headphones and reached for his mouse to unmute-

And he wasn't muted the entire time. (Overused, I know, but great, ain't it?)

"Ah, _fuck_ ," Dream swore as he looked back at his slightly ajar door, the unknowing silhouette sitting on the couch, his head cutely leaned on the armrest of the sofa.

"Dream..." George started, sounding like he was trying to hold in laughter. "You didn't mute."

"I know that!" Dream grabbed his hair. 

The originally silent call now exploded, the questions overwhelming Dream's shouts.

"You have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Whatever?" Karl bombarded his mic.

"I thought you had no bitches!" Quackity yelled.

 **<** **Callahan >** his voice sounded like a boyfriend

"Dream... you kind of probably messed up," George snickered, his voice amused. 

"I also know that, George! Give me another second," Dream sighed as he actually muted this time and double-checked before dashing to Techno who was almost falling asleep with a pillow in his arms.

"Techno, wake up-" He pushed the other gently, and Techno blearily opened his eyes. "You done?" His low and hoarse voice slightly louder than before.

"No, not yet-" Dream grimaced. "I may or may not have not muted when you came in."

Techno stared at him, his face exasperated before letting out a sigh. "You're dumb."

"Stop-" Dream let out a laugh. "At least we held on for some time. You wanna explain now?"

"Yeah yeah, let's get this over with. Let's tell them," he scooted to the edge of the sofa before Dream stopped him again. 

"The problem is that... George was streaming."

Techno looked at him again, the eyes once peppered with irritation now wide and filled with sudden fear. "Everyone heard it? Live?"

"Yeah..." Dream threaded a hand through his dirty-blond hair, wincing again at the implications of his rash actions. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut the line here, Dream," Techno muttered, his eyes filled with worry. "We're not ready yet for that."

"... I know."

Dream sat down on the couch beside him, tugging him into his embrace. "We'll find a way, okay? No matter what, even if we tell our friends, even if my fans know I'm dating someone... It'll be up to you when you're ready."

Techno sniffed. "Thank you. You're so nice to me all the time."

"That's why you're here," Dream chuckled.

"Go back to your setup, Dream," Techno scoffed, rolled his eyes and pushed Dream off of the couch, who bounded up and pulled a face at Techno before making his way back to his monitor. "I'm back," he sighed as he put on his headphones and unmuted himself (for real this time). But before anyone could say anything, Dream quickly followed up with another sentence. "I've talked with him just now, and I'm going to release a statement before leaving."

"So it _is_ a 'he'," Karl thoughtfully said.

George snickered. "It's been some time, Dream."

"Oh shut up, George," Dream grumbled as he quickly tapped out hasty words on his Twitter. "I'll be going now."

Quackity laughed. "Spending time with your boyfriend?"

"Yes, in fact. Bye," Dream cheerily said before leaving the vc and hurriedly bounding out of his room to snuggle with Techno under a fluffy blanket on the couch, who was mindlessly switching between shows on Netflix.

The evening was silent, with Techno's breathing and occasional chuckle as they binged a romcom series. Dream held him tighter, the lavender scent of his clothes seeming so at home.

One day, they'd have to tell everyone, and they'd be okay.


	4. Gladiolus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is painful, and once it consumes you and takes root in your lungs, heart and head, it leaves a pounding ache that can never be washed away, not by the honeyed liquids of spicy regret or the fleeting euphoria of temporary bliss and pleasure.
> 
> Warning: Depictions of blood - Hanahaki, implied death, mention of parental neglect
> 
> 7k words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like writing angst more than fluff. I'm sorry-  
> This oneshot has a darker theme. Viewer discretion advised.  
> Please do inform me if I need to add more warnings!

Technoblade didn't even know when the flowers started choking him.

Maybe it began taking root in his lungs when he heard Dream laugh with him in such a subtly different way than when he laughed with Techno.

Maybe it wrapped its toxic vines around his airway and constricted his usually relaxed breathing when he heard Dream talk to him with such a yearning and loving tone it hurt Techno.

Maybe, just maybe, it made its way, blooming out of his mouth and scratching at his throat when he saw Dream kiss him gently, cradling his arms softer than he's ever seen.

All he knew was it hurt all the way, even without the parasitic growth deep in his chest.

In a way, Dream and George were perfect - something just clicked at first sight. Dream's cockiness and George's wittiness fit flawlessly with each other, and their dynamic was one of the most easy-going ones that Techno had ever seen. George was attractive, kind, and just always _there_ , and Techno had to admit, he was such a good person to him.

But perhaps that was why it hurt so badly. Was it because of the guilt of wanting George, such a wonderful man, to leave Dream? Was it because he knew that he could never amount to the importance of him in Dream's life?

Techno gasped harshly as more petals ticked the back of his throat, already too tired to crawl out of his bed and expel the flowers out of his lungs, the rawness of constant coughing and the metallic taste of blood clotting in his mouth already too much to handle. Today's episode was especially harsh after seeing their posts talking about how sickeningly sweet their love was for each other, how Dream wanted to start living with him soon, how Dream wanted to hold his hand in marriage someday, and Techno didn't know what burned so heavily in his chest - the flowers tightening its roots in his lungs, his green and putrid envy and jealousy, or the white-hot flames of rage.

He had long since given up on thinking about why he felt this way.

All he could do now was try and relive the memories he cherished to his heart to numb the pain of reality.

-

They weren't originally this distant. 

Some time long ago, when they were still children, Techno and Dream had met on the same street they lived in, Techno having just moved in with his neglectful single father. Somehow, Techno still didn't know what drew Dream, the boisterous neighbor's kid, to come and try to play with him almost in the middle of the night when he had ran away from home for almost the fifth time to the park because his father was drunk again.

He only remembered sniffling under the roof of the slides in the playground, hands dug in the dirt, the dampness collecting on his clothes as he tried his best not to utter a sound, scared by the infinite darkness and the flickering street lights. And then there was _Dream_ , suddenly peeking down at him through one of the slits on the small barrier that held up the platform above their heads. His messy dirty-blond hair fell on his forehead, while his bright emerald irises stared at him curiously, and Techno didn't know if he had seen a more gratifying and terrifying sight as a child ever before.

Techno scrambled back, his hands shooting up to cover his face and his legs retracting into his chest, ignoring the dirt scraping at his already scratched ankles as he looked back horrifyingly at the green in the dark.

"Hey, don't worry, I'm not a monster," Dream had said as he ducked into the small safe space that Techno had created, grinning at him from behind the lime green of his loose hoodie, and sat down opposite the slightly shivering boy. "I've seen you around here, but you never come and play with anyone."

Another moment of awkward silence passed between them, before Dream looked back up at Techno's downcast and trembling figure. "Why are you here?"

Techno immediately got defensive. "Why are _you_ here then?"

"I followed you here after a while," Dream huffed, his cheeks puffing. "You were alone. You haven't answered me yet."

The shivering brown-haired boy lowered his head again. "I'm running away from home," he mumbled, his fingers fidgeting on the edges of his already dirtied white button-up shirt. He was never a vulnerable boy; maybe it was because there was another person listening to him talk for the first time in a while.

Dream snickered. "Did you do something bad?"

"No, my Dad is drinking again."

"... oh."

Once again, a heavy blanket of silence fell between the two boys as all they could hear were the loud summer night cicadas singing their hearts out in the trees nearby.

"Do you want a hug?"

"... What?"

Dream's hands were outstretched towards Techno, his face tentatively warm, filled with slight concern and a caring empathy that only children could hold. He slightly retracted his arms when Techno just stiffly sat there, staring at him like he was a weirdo. "I know we just met, but you look like you really need it," his green eyes averted from Techno's face as he said.

Techno hesitated again. "You really don't mind? I haven't hugged anyone in a long time."

"It's not as if you'll give bad hugs if you don't hug, dummy."

Dream got up and scooted closer to arm's reach, tapping Techno's shoulder. "C'mon if you want to," he urged as Techno raised his arms slightly, timidly circling them around Dream's small shoulders, then dragged him deep into his arms, squishing the taller boy against him. Techno didn't know why, but the warmth was so comforting and needed that he wanted it to last forever. It had been ages since his mother's tender touches, and his father's large cradling arms. Tears began to well again in his dry eyes, and he gripped the back of Dream's hoodie tightly, trying to hold in the small sobs he didn't know that collected inside of him since he came to this small space. Dream's hand patted his shoulder slightly clumsily, his breathing barely discernible above the white noise in the summer night. Techno supposed he felt the wet spot forming on his shoulder, dampening his hoodie.

Once Techno pulled away, Dream panicked a bit seeing his red puffy eyes, stuttering. "I- you- are you okay-"

"I'm fine. Thank you," Techno let out his first genuine smile since he moved here, making Dream's face brighten considerably. "You're nicer than I thought."

"No one's ever told me that." The dirty-blond boy gave him an even wider smile.

Techno's heart had fluttered a bit at the sight so unbelievably bright that it lit up his surrounding world more than the sun could ever.

To them, for such a long time, they were no one but _Dave_ and _Clay_ , boy and boy, hand in hand, relishing in the childhood joy that only the young could experience, and even so, it was only a measly once. They laughed, played, cried, just like normal children, and developed a stronger bond than anyone else in the neighborhood - almost inseparable. Sure enough, Dave played with everyone like Clay did some time afterwards, but he was never close with the other kids, and instead, all of his old memories were about _them_ and them only. The way Clay would comfort him when he ran away from home, away from the bone-chilling cold of his distant father, into the searing hot arms of the other always remained a mark, now a scar, in the depths of his mind.

At this point, Techno doesn't even know whether Dream even remembers those days and nights, or if he even cherished them like Techno does so much, grabbing onto them like a lifeline. Techno could almost feel the threads of their past connection slipping from his fingers as they slid further from each other.

He still remembers, the chasm widened when Techno had to move away.

“Clay, I already miss you," he'd said one autumn evening, watching the distant lights of the truck storing the furniture in the house he lived in from far away, on a desolate and chipped bench. It could barely hold his weight, but Clay had still decided to hop on next to him, making the metal supporting the bench threateningly creak. "Yeah, I'll miss you too," the boy had said, his grin still bright enough to blind him even in the dark.

Dave played with his semi-long brown hair, twisting the ends into spirals absentmindedly. "Will you still be my friend? Even when we can't see each other anymore?"

"Of course," Clay replied candidly, his tone sincere. Dave felt his heart twist. "Simply because you're the best person I've ever met."

"I... I'm the best?"

"Yeah."

A while of comfortable quietness fell between the two as the wind lifted the last dead shriveled leaves on the ground, across the street and into the road. Dave suddenly spoke up. "You know that bet we were going to decide to do when we're older?"

Clay laughed. "Yeah. That bet about becoming a Youtuber?"

"We're still going to continue, right?"

"Totally. I'm going to get more subscribers than you, just you wait."

Chuckling, Dave shook his head. "We aren't going to know what our names are at that point, right? And would it even matter?"

"Nope," Clay swung his legs, popping the 'p' as he hastily stopped when he heard the bench creak precariously again.

The following day, Techno had left in his father's car, feeling the intense frigid air conditioner that flowed through the interior and his father's icy silence. There were no emotional words between him and Clay, no tearful hugs, simply just a grip of their hands, a shared secret smile, and a mutual promise.

His silent tears as they drove away were the only remaining embers of their roaring fire of friendship.

-

The next time Techno had officially met Dream, it was online. And Dream had long since won their bet.

Since Techno moved away, he threw himself into school and his videos, distancing him from other people. As a result, he never really learned (or intended to learn) how to make friends, instead devoting himself to his promise and his own responsibilities. And eventually, he grew to love creating content for people willing to listen to his constant ramblings over gameplay.

And eventually, he made more new friends along the way.

And eventually, Clay faded a bit from his mind.

But that didn't mean he wasn't important to him.

Now going by the alias of Technoblade, he quietly made his own little corner on the internet, the bet a faraway thought in his mind once he started enjoying the process. Following the resurgence of Minecraft as a game once more, his subscriber count began to drastically grow once more, all while meeting his current friends - Skeppy, Wilbur Soot, Ph1lza, TommyInnit, Jschlatt, and so much more. His love for the game grows ever so steadily, as with the distant blurred memories of his time with a friend that saved him mentally.

Throughout his time doing commentary videos while playing Skywars or Bedwars, he never mentioned Clay once. The memory of leaving was distant but still painful with the sting of loss, and he still had a selfish part of him that wanted to keep those precious moments all to himself, not willing to expose the softness it gave him and the cold times it reminded him of, in his dark and freezing home where his father resided, existing.

He was content with just remembering.

That was, until the day when he saw Dream.

It had been a complete coincidence when Techno had stumbled upon Dream's videos, seeing the strangely intriguing thumbnails and the very appealing view count. _I see, a man of clout_. Watching them, back then, Techno had been struck by a strange feeling of familiarity hearing the voice of Dream, this skyrocketing Youtuber with a successful series of videos which boosted his channel up a crazily steep slope.

However, Techno couldn't even remember the first time they talked. Maybe it was during a video recording, maybe it was during some event. Looking back, Techno couldn't think about it more - they'd talked years before and it'd be hard to pinpoint.

He only remembered being quite distant, although friendly acquaintances with the man which eventually culminated into a tentative friendship.

Techno didn't know what was wrong with him as he talked more and more with Dream. He found him easier to interact with than anyone else, and he seemed to know him inside out although they've only been friendly for around a month or so.

Then he realized Dream's real name was _Clay_.

There was no doubt; Dream was the same Clay who held his hand and dragged him out of the shelter of the playground at midnight, the same Clay that brightened his world like a light bulb in a void, the same Clay that promised he'd be his friend till forevermore.

Connecting the dots, it wasn't hard for Techno to internally panic. Should he confront him? Should he tell him he was Dave? Would he remember?

_Would he be happy to see me?_

_What if he doesn't want to see his old memories?_

His mind constantly filled with corrupting doubt.

He didn't say anything.

They were still, at least, friends.

That was all that mattered to him.

"Techno, I feel like we've met before," Dream had mused before as they celebrated the aftermath of their victory in Minecraft Championships 8, after Burren and Michael, their teammates, had left the vc and everyone had stopped streaming. It was just them, in the channel, talking late into the night after the event.

Techno chuckled. He wouldn't even be recognizable with his drastically deep voice nowadays. It was surprising how Dream could even start to think that way, even after they'd stopped talking all those years ago. "How so, Dream?"

Dream laughed with him. "I don't know, we kind of just seem to know each other very well. _You_ know me very well, especially. It's cool."

"We may just be friends in a past life," Techno joked. It was true to him; that was what it seemed to be to him, as he left the past far behind him a long time ago once he started a life anew.

"You remind me of an old friend."

"I see. How's your old friend?"

A sigh. "He moved away years ago. Haven't been in contact since. We even had a bet and stuff, y'know, but I never saw him again. I don't even know where he is."

Techno's heart painfully twisted. "Hope you find him, then."

"Thanks. It's been some time, but I'm still searching." 

The both of them went quiet, only the barely audible background noise of keyboards and mouses clicking.

Techno's mouth moved on its own. "Hey, tell me more about your old friend if you'd like."

Dream hummed. "All I can really remember is that he was a very good person. He moved into the neighborhood I was in a very long time ago, and he was lonely, so I decided to become friends with him."

"Sounds like a nerd."

"He kind of _was_ a nerd," Dream chuckled. "Always hauling around books and never really playing physically with the other kids. Still, I liked him. He was a very chill, and uh, peaceful, I'd say, person. Haven't heard much about his family at the time, but he was kind of neglected, and he moved away too soon."

He hesitated listening to the words Dream, no, _Clay_ uttered. "Do you still miss him?" Techno asked after a second, masking his curiosity and temptation with indifference.

"Sort of," Clay had said. "He made me who I was and am, and I thank him for giving me the opportunity to see truly what I should do. It's a shame that I don't know where he is now."

Techno found it hard to find words. "That's nice." He didn't know if he wanted to hear that or not.

They wrapped up and said goodbye after that, Dream cheery and still riding on the high of winning, while Techno hesitated on whether to confront him.

He missed him so much. The feeling of talking to him was just the same as any other day back in the sweltering hot times of summer where they used to live, when Clay would poke fun at whatever Dave was doing, or just ramble about whatever came to mind. Dave was always willing to listen, Clay's rifting voice therapeutic and calming.

Techno wasn't dumb - he knew that there was something obviously wrong with how he interpreted his feeling towards Clay, or Dream as merely friendship, and even surprising himself, he accepted it fairly quickly, clinging to a thread of hope.

Moving away thinned it out.

Now it was cut clean, the strings in the thread spreading out like the opening of a wound.

It was like acid corroding his tissues away, the knowledge consuming every day of his life again, the old memories gushing back and stinging his cuts and openings.

Techno still didn't know anything about the jumble of emotions that sat on his chest ever since, only temporarily lifted by Clay's absence. It couldn't be clearly described as love, nor just pure likeliness, or anything profound at all. It was just _confusing_. The prospect of them ever being together or any of that sort was absolutely minimal. But Techno thought of it, or once did. The dream that a faceless or masked man would whisk him away from this suffocating life in a large pumpkin carriage.

That'd make Dream the godmother, wouldn't it? He who grants Techno's wishes, yet Techno wants Dream to grant himself to him.

Now, looking back, this was probably when the seeds of the flower started to germinate in his lungs as he realized the impossibility of pursuing anything he wanted out of Dream if he didn't approach him with the innate trust he needed.

Techno never had that trust, but Dave probably would've. And so he tried to return to his past more frequently, thinking of their memories, the refreshing spring of life he used to have when playing with him. He tried, and he is still trying in the present, but no matter how hard, no one can rejuvenate what had already happened,

And most importantly, no one can turn back time.

-

Dream was such great friends with George, Techno realized.

Too good friends, in fact.

Techno had always known that Dream was frequently shipped with George even before he came to the realization that Dream was Clay, but the emotional reaction to that reality drastically changed after his perception of the man.

He used to be indifferent to the subject matter because it wasn't something he could, or even should worry about. But back then after knowing Dream's real identity, he felt wrongly uncomfortable on Dream's behalf. Techno couldn't give less of a shit on people writing about content creators engaging in unspeakable behavior, but the reason he started feeling worse was because of the people involved endorsed those actions themselves.

And the fact that no one could deny their compatibility.

No one in the content creator circle around the Dream SMP didn't know that Dream and George had an actually surprisingly amazing dynamic. Dream's incredible skills with his sometimes overly confident personality fit like the last puzzle piece to George's sharpness, intuition and his sarcasm. Even outside of streams, they were absolutely fit for each other. Heck, Dream even synced his sleep schedule with George's, and even though his sleeping patterns were now atrocious, Techno could still hear how happy they were to be absorbed in their world without a care.

Occasionally, in group calls when they were all just chilling with no lore and no streams, George truly shone brighter than a star with Dream's energy. Their laughs lightened the call, lit up everyone's day, but dampened Techno's.

It wasn't hard to say that their shipping fans were all in for rides whenever they appeared on streams.

Same as when Dream brings out the best in George, George does too, vice versa. With George, Dream's laughs seem so genuine and full of his boisterous energy, each wheeze able to contagiously send people doubling over in their seats, Techno too. He can't help but think about when George isn't around, when Dream becomes more quiet and withdrawn, less likely to show his stupidly sunshine side that Techno so dearly missed.

"George, I'm going to kill you," Dream breathlessly said as Techno, from afar, saw the man's derpy green character wield an axe and charge at George with full enchanted netherite.

"NOO-" George scampered off, his shield in his off hand and an enchanted netherite sword in his other. They exchanged a few hits before Dream took over the advantage and chased George all the way to the holy land.

The way they messed around with each other was endearing. They livened up the call as people laughed at their antics, and as both Dream and George began to smile too, he could tell by how their voices changed while they continued to dance in circles, George finally screaming "NO! MY HELMET IS ABOUT TO BREAK!"

Techno has watched quite a few of George's videos. He was a person filled with a quite surprisingly fitting combination of seriousness, sarcasm and playfulness. To be completely honest, Techno did expect George to be almost as dry as Dream when it came to talking to people they weren't as familiar with, but it was quite the opposite - he seemed to fit wherever like a puzzle piece. 

There was no doubt, Dream liked George. Techno was so attentive to how Dream acted that he could almost see the changes taking place in the man as he talked with George, voice lifting up and a hint of endearment hidden within his tone. 

It eventually wasn't a surprise to him when they actually started to date seriously. 

That fateful day, the news had apparently spread throughout the content creators circle, and congratulations were given. Techno didn't feel much. He long since expected it to happen one day, knowing there was no chance that he would get to know Dream better, not if he didn't have the courage to tell him who he once was.

And so after getting the news and sending a bland congratulatory message to Dream, Techno sat on his bed for a long time, wearisome emotions swelling in his heart.

It sort of bewildered him that he didn't feel much, considering how deep his feelings ran for the now distant man, but he was wrong when the onset of trying to deal with his unrequited emotions overwhelmed him.

In a way, it was just like a mild snowstorm raging, the disappointment and emptiness blanketing in small flakes of freezing cold ice on the floor of his heart. Before Techno knew it, the snow piled five feet high, the storm was still swirling, and he had no shovel to clean out the residue of longing in his mind, nor could he open the doorway to release.

Techno felt tortuously awful.

Disappointment and self-pity weighed down more of his already fatigued body, nourishing the growth of the flowers in his lungs, every breath out of his nose or mouth bringing the light scent of something strange.

Worst of all, he could do nothing about it. The wallowing ruins of emotions destroyed him from the inside out painstakingly slowly, like the process of a corpse rotting its way from the center.

That was the right word - Techno felt like a walking corpse.

Eventually, it wasn't long until Dream and George announced their relationship to their fans, who went batshit crazy and destroyed the internet.

Everything felt infinitely more painful. Techno couldn't tread on any platform without seeing people discuss about them two for a few days, and the constant reminder burned into his brain like an executioner with a red-hot iron cast that would never falter in causing him agonizing pain.

In reality, Techno was never an extremely affectionate nor outgoing person, and so with his problems all bottled up inside him, he unknowingly fed the famished seedlings in his chest.

It was almost relieving when Techno eventually gained the courage to get into group calls with them. Although it was hell, hearing their loving words as they cut through his body like a thousand knives at once, but he just wanted to hear Dream's voice, so much more alive and _happier_ than Techno's ever heard him be. The payoff for his pain was a laugh, a tease, a grin.

Days passed. Months, even. The shoots lay dormant in his lungs for so long as he continued to hurt himself, but in the same way as before, seeing them wonderfully and beautifully together. 

Dream and George met up.

Dream and George kissed.

The image was all over Twitter.

It was like a wound reopening in his chest all over again, the wheels of a merciless truck dragging over his body. Techno could only stare as he looked blankly at their faces; pink, glowing, and brimming with happiness. 

Dream looked quite a bit different than he'd expected. The old Clay's silhouette in Dream and in Techno's mind wiped away with time, and now Dream was just _Dream_.

Yet somehow, the sandy curls that sat on his head messily, the slight creases on the ends of his eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and the freckles splashed haphazardly on his cheeks all screamed _Clay_ at him.

They were wonderfully in love with each other while Techno was wonderfully in love with Clay.

Feeling something tickle the back of his throat, Techno coughed a bit, and recoiled when a stabbing pain shot through his chest and something expelled out of his airway into his mouth, soft, flat and curled.

Getting a tissue and spitting the item out, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at this slightly curled thing sitting in his palm serenely. It wasn't long before he realized it was a petal, a vibrant red with a paler gradient and slight wrinkles on its ends.

He looked at the soft thing a while longer before setting it aside and laying down on his messed up bed, one hand laying on his chest and the other running through his tangled brown hair.

That was the first petal.

-

Reliving his memories were painful.

Techno had researched his symptoms, not bothering to go to see a doctor, but he didn't need much digging to find out exactly what he had - Hanahaki.

Same as with hearing that Dream and George were dating, Techno didn't do too much, nor did he react viscerally. What has happened cannot be changed, and he accepted it that way.

In some twisted way, he felt emptier than even if he wanted to scream and cry about whatever was happening to him.

The only thing he could say was bad about it was that his conditions worsened exponentially after he became aware.

It soon even became hard to talk properly without feeling an annoying petal stroke up the sides of his throat, threatening to send him into a coughing fit.

He had no choice but to stop his content creation, sending out an apology to his audience and saying that he was sick, then unhealthily avoided all social contact after sending a curt message to Dream addressing his following absence from lore on the SMP.

He didn't want to remove the flowers either; they reminded him of his loss.

Another coughing fit came up painfully, the blood gargling inside of him as he grabbed a tissue and tried to stem the flow of the metallic liquid with the bundle of curled up flower petals coated with his own blood too. Techno eventually gave up and just got up and walked to his bathroom, turning on the tap and rinsing his mouth out.

He looked at himself in the mirror with slight indifference, a small hint of bitterness and self pity burning as he saw his pale and ashen face, the hints of red tainting the corners of his mouth, the bags under his now dull and hollow blue eyes weighing his appearance down. Even his usual fluffy hair hung limply down, lifeless and bare.

The only sign of true motion or even life was probably the running water in the sink and Techno's hands, gripping tighter than intended on the edges of the sink as he breathed deeply, wincing at the piercing pain that ripped him from the inside out.

Techno grimaced - he looked so awful.

The reflection in his mirror pulled an agonizing expression.

Giving up and rinsing his face again, he dragged himself back to his desk, putting his headphones on and booting up Minecraft, as it was the only thing that could distract him from the pulsing pain in his chest like a new beating heart that could explode inside of him and cause his death.

Logging on to the Dream SMP, Techno began to look around at the cabin that he hadn't visited for over two weeks since he released the post, but now all he wanted was a distraction. Checking all his chests, he looked at the player list and noticed that a few of the people he knew was online, including Phil, Ranboo, and Wilbur.

He sighed; he needed some sort of thing he could preoccupy himself with before the flowers drowned him again.

His eyes flickered towards the lower left side of his screen as a whisper notification flickered in gray italics. 

_Ph1lza whispers to you: join vc_

Opening up Discord, he offhandedly checked whether everyone in the channel was streaming before he finally joined, dreading opening his mouth and starting his sentence with a string of coughs.

A small moment of silence permeated the call before Phil tentatively spoke. "You alright, Techno? You haven't been on nor have you talked to us since you released that post."

Techno gathered his breath before choking out a few words, careful not to onset the avalanche of flowers and blood on his keyboard. "I-I'm 'k."

He winced hearing his unbelievably hoarse voice and took in a whistling breath again, feeling the air brush into the blooming petals in his lungs.

"Techno, you sound... awful," Wilbur said softly, his voiced laced carefully with concern. "How sick are you?"

Techno chuckled, the blood rising again. "Not gonna lie, Wilbur, very, and I feel like I'm about to die." He coughed slightly, grabbing at his chest as the pain burned into him again.

"Oh dear," Ranboo muttered. "Are-are you sure you're ok? Have you had help?"

He grinned at the kindness of his newfound friend. "I'm alright, Ranboo. Though in all seriousness, I might die before I reach my next birthday."

"What?!"

"Nah, I'm just kidding," Techno laughed again, trying to press down the writhing agony in his chest with his usual humor.

Phil laughed wheezily. "You scared us there, mate."

They talked refreshingly, the care that his friends emanated dulling the pain that emerged frequently, and Techno wondered why he hadn't done this sooner.

Midway through conversations, Techno would occasionally cough, but it was subtle enough to mask behind an unspoken excuse of a cold, until he felt an especially severe one rise up. Grabbing a handful of tissues from his already half empty tissue box, he felt his throat convulse with the warm trickle of blood and the almost lethally large flowers that came with it. He choked, only managing to muffle the noises with his hand as he tried to expel the flower out.

It was only when he got the vibrant red flower out of his airway when he registered the concerned shouts of his friends in the call. Throwing his drenched tissue into the trash can and getting a new one to wipe his hand and mouth with, he scooted back to near his mic. "I'm alright," he said calmly, although shakily as the rawness of his throat got graced by the rush of air.

Wilbur sucked in air through his teeth, the same pitch resonating within Techno's lungs. "That sure doesn't sound right to me, Techno."

"Of course it's not right, Wilbur. I'm sick."

Phil sighed. "Techno, you have to tell us what's wrong with you. We _want_ to help."

Techno paused. He didn't know if he could trust them with something buried so deeply into his chest. "You got me. It isn't a common cold, yeah."

"Then... then what is it?"

A pause. "I don't know if I should tell you guys."

Ranboo chimed in. "It's alright, it's up to you, don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Techno sighed, feeling the petals in his lungs shake with the expelled breath. "It's incurable. I might actually die."

"... what?"

He could hear Phil breathe in harshly too, the man's slightly shaky voice breaking Techno's heart into more pieces than Dream could. "Is... is there anything we can do?"

"Nothing," Techno simply said. He sounded so nonchalant and indifferent to the aspect of death that he wondered if they were scared for him.

"I'm so sorry, Techno," Ranboo's voice trembled with sympathy and slight disbelief.

Wilbur's side was silent until he spoke up, sounding way more serious than Techno had ever heard him be before. "How long has it been?"

"Probably around a few months by now, Close to half a year," Techno muttered.

"... How much do you have?"

"I don't know. A month, maybe. Or even just a week or a day. Depends." Techno chuckled bitterly. "Don't feel for me, I deserved it."

"You _don't_ deserve any of this!" Wilbur suddenly indignantly said, his outburst startling Techno. "I don't know- I-I- We could've helped, we could've tried to find a way for you! Why didn't you tell us? Why?!"

Techno's heart shattered like glass on metal again. "Wilbur, it isn't a matter of whether I will recover, it's just that I know I never will."

"You still- oh my god, _fuck_ you, you can't be saying this to your own _life_ -" Wilbur sounded like he was about to cry.

"If you don't mind telling us, what is it anyways? Cancer? We can probably have a chance to still help," Phil hesitantly said, his voice gentle and forgiving.

Techno's fingers massaged his throat as he eased the deep-rooted soreness. "There's actually nothing I can do, or I wouldn't be here talking to you guys."

"At least, please, tell us."

"It's... it's Hanahaki."

Another moment of speechlessness. Wilbur burst out again. "Then- that isn't something we _can't_ cure! We could help you regain your love or whatever or- or if that isn't reachable, we can get you a surgical procedure-"

"Wilbur-" Techno cut through his words sharply. "Do you know how many patients agree to that? Two percent. The payoffs of not being able to feel again is horrible. I am _not_ going to do that."

The British man finally fell silent, before he spoke again, this time softer. "Techno, I just want you to _live_ ," he choked, voice breaking.

"I know, Wilbur. Thank you."

"Is there anything we can do for you anyways? Do you have any wishes?" Ranboo spoke up.

Techno laughed again, feeling a genuine smile on his lips after what seemed like years. "Ranboo, it's fine. Nothing is better than spending time with you guys."

Phil sounded broken. "Techno- no, _Dave_ , if there's nothing you can do, is there anything _we_ can? Who is the person who made you this way?"

"Really, Phil, it's no one. It's a personal thing, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, sorry, that was a pushy question."

"At the very least, Dave," Wilbur sighed, "let us distract you."

"Thank you, Wilbur, I already feel better, though I'm not getting better any time soon," Techno softly said, smiling again. The grin didn't feel forced.

They all talked for a while, getting together in Minecraft and following a woodland mansion map. Techno felt like he hasn't had this much fun in months, his friends liberating his chained soul.

"If you don't mind, what's the flower?" Ranboo had asked while they burnt the mansion down after raiding it.

"It's a gladiolus," Techno mused. After coughing up enough of the petals, and eventually entire flowers, he now knew what inhabited his lungs - a red gladiolus. "It's a sword-like plant that has spikes of flowers, and mine's red. It was rumored to be the flower that Demeter, the Greek goddess of agriculture and the harvest or Ceres, in Roman origins, turned Erisichton's daughter into to look after the man that her father killed when he tried to stop Erisichton from cutting down the holy trees of a sacred grove that Demeter felt a deep affection for."

"Wow, that's a big mouthful," Phil teased. "You're interested in those kinds of things, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. In a way, the story really resembles what I could've done if I wasn't a socially awkward nerd."

Wilbur chuckled. "What happened to the Eri guy later on, then?"

"Demeter, in punishment, put famine into Erisichton, who became constantly hungry. He ate and ate and ate... until there was no more food, then he tried to sell his own daughter for more food, who ran away and eventually became a gladiolus. Erisichton then got so consumed with famine that he began to eat himself and died."

"Sounds... morbid," Ranboo shuddered.

"It sure is," Techno exhaled.

"So what do you think your gladiolus means?" Phil asked.

Techno tapped his chin, deep in thought. "They're a symbol for remembrance and infatuation, which does resonate with my situation right now. Probably also deep love. But to me..." Techno smiled slightly. "It's my strength. I'm not strong in essence, but it makes me feel like I am, which is pitiful if I'm being honest. And probably integrity. I'm honest with myself, I guess. I've just accepted what's happening to me right now."

Phil sighed. "At the very least, we'll be here until the end."

"Thank you, really, but I'll be alright even if I know the inevitability of what's going to happen. Just be grateful it doesn't happen to everyone."

They chatted for a while more before Techno logged off, saying that he needed to rest. Getting up with a weighing fatigue from his chair, Techno collapsed on his bed, breathing in the scent of the sheets. Curling up, the pain in his chest that hasn't bothered him when he talked with his friends began to pound again like a drum that serenaded his doom. Feeling the boiling metallic blood well up his airway and his mouth again, he let his breathing flow slowly and didn't bother with the blood until it trickled out, the iron-like scent permeating his nose.

Rising up unwillingly, he trod over to his bathroom once again and bent over the toilet bowl, ejecting the contents in his mouth and continued retching until he felt the remnants of his stomach hurl out. His knees gave away, folding under him as he gripped the ceramic with support.

 _I feel dirty. I want to become clean_. He forced himself to cough heavily, to make his chest squeeze and spit out the poisonous petals. With every heave, the burning sensation in his lungs ripped into him more and more.

He wanted to get rid of the smell of blood, rip the flowers out of his lungs, break Dream in two.

So weak, _so weak_.

Techno stopped and stared down at the mess, then closed his eyes, feeling even the dim white light of the bathroom begin to bruise his vision.

He wasn't strong at all, that was true.

But he wasn't honest either. Not with himself, not with his friends, not with Dream.

Ironic, how the gladiolus thrived on his lies.

-

Techno always knew he was going to die, being reminded every day as he wakes up and feels the petals curling in his airway as a sign of inevitability. The flowers were growing, and they were growing fast. Techno couldn't talk anymore, in fear he'd choke. When facing death on his doorstep, Techno wanted to feel calm and accepting, but he still felt the instinctual fear rooted deep in his mind. _I don't want to go. I still have so much to live for._

Soon, he'd be unable to even breathe. Soon, he'll suffocate and die, and he doesn't know when.

Dragging out his charged phone from under the covers, he opened Discord and through bleary and fatigued eyes, looked through the comforting messages of his close friends. Techno had told them not to tell anyone else, and they didn't, staying by his side until the end. He had told them he couldn't talk anymore, and they'd complied with messaging him every day and checking up on how he's doing. Techno truly felt gratified to have these friends that cared for him, even if Dream did not.

It'd be equally as painful to leave them behind.

Despite trying hard not to think about Dream, Techno still got consumed by the pain that reminded him of his unrequited love every day as he wakes up, checks Discord, sleeps, and wakes up again. Love has weakened him; his resolve, his energy, his mind. It ate away at his soul, revealing the vulnerable core which was who he was, and it was agony. Techno was miserable, that was true, and it came to a point when all that remained was an empty shell of a body that housed a void that ached to be filled.

Pulling up Discord again after a small shut-eye, Techno opened his and Dream's messages. It was scarce - only involving professionalism and occasional casual banter, ending with Dream saying an affirmation to Techno's break weeks ago.

Techno felt like facing his disappearance from the world wasn't that bad if it gave him the courage to tell Dream _something._ The tip of the flower grew to enter his mouth, which were already filled with the bright red petals that burned into his eyes and chest. He was so tired. He was too tired to cough more, to fight for life. Dream never needed him - it was Techno who needed Dream. Techno let out a short breath, feeling a bloodied petal escape his lips and land gracefully on his already stained pillow.

He kept breathing. The pain numbed him, and he was slowly suffocating, but he kept breathing.

But at this point, all he wanted to feel was to feel liberated from this grueling love that tore him apart and stitched him together over and over, the disgusting festering emotions that boiled in him, burning his insides.

He's already lost.

Dave closed his eyes for the millionth and maybe the last time, a gratified smile lifting the corners of his chapped mouth upwards.

On the inside of his eyelids, he saw the memories flit past, days spent lying in the shade under a sunny spring day, smelling the fresh dew on the grass, hearing the laughter of his once beloved.

He saw the blinding sun, the brightest smile in the world paired with the brightest eyes.

-

Dave hates how it's the last thing he'll ever see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be consistently slower as I post more chapters because I'm exhausting my oneshot ideas now. 
> 
> Thank you SO much for the support!


	5. Scars of a lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor comes amidst the night after a day of wonderfully terrible destruction.
> 
> (Set right after the fall of L'manburg, DSMP)
> 
> 7.6k words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some fluff because the last chapter was big-time pain. I'm a sucker for this slow burning intimacy, but anyhow-  
> This isn't smut (I can't and I won't), but it does get a bit spicy. You can skip if you're not comfortable!  
> I will get back to writing more angst though, especially with Dream. Thank you for the support!

The sword he wielded against the crowd just a mere hour ago now shook with his fatigue and dripped painstakingly slow with the blood he had painted the obsidian walls with as he slaughtered them. He had done it; he had destroyed L'manburg and massacred to his heart's content, but Techno felt no sense of true triumph like a warrior should after besting their enemies. Even Phil, who walked beside him lethargically, seemed beaten up even though all he did was summon the withers for him.

"We did it, Phil."

"Yeah."

His hands stuttered with the weight of exhaustion and overexertion as Technoblade slid down ungracefully from the exit of the Nether portal, netherite boots hitting the snowy grass with a dull thump, but not before helping Phil from the temporary nausea that the portal caused. Groaning a bit, he hauled the stained sword onto his shoulder before treading slowly towards the direction of his house in the dark night amidst the blizzard, so cold that it threatened to slice him apart with the winds alone.

For a while, their path was permeated with silence as they listened to the wind howl and whistle, sweeping away their tracks but not the blood they splashed onto the snow, which bloomed like dejected wilted flowers. Techno’s long pink hair was long undone, cascading down his shoulders long before when Sapnap had sliced his hair tie off amidst battle, releasing the silky strands that now billowed to one side and caught the glittering snow as the two figures tread on the frosted ground.

Techno blinked, the speeding snowflakes threatening to fly into his eyes through the holes of his cold and bloodstained mask. "Phil... Did we do the right thing?" He gritted his teeth, feeling the small canines in his jaw strain. "I still wonder if I'm doing this all for myself or just because I want to prove them wrong? It feels pathetic."

Phil surged forward in the snow and heavily set a gloved hand on Techno's shoulder, or rather weathered netherite shoulder guard. "All we can do right now is hold on to our beliefs, Techno." Phil gave him a smile, and Techno returned one tentatively before turning around again and continuing to drag himself forward.

As they reached in eyesight of the house, Techno's eyebrows furrowed his sharp eyes caught the loosely opened door and lit lamps from inside his cozy cabin among the spruce and the dark snow. They barely left the lamps lit when they left the house, and if they ever did, it was only when they left for short amounts of time due to Techno's underlying fear of his house burning down. Staring at the ajar door, he grimaced at the thought of a fight or even the thought of facing a certain boy whom he housed before with all his power. Techno looked back at Phil, who had noticed the abnormality too and put his trident away in place of his weapon, still gripping the totem of undying in his other hand.

Techno raised a hand when Phil started to walk forward. "Phil, please, let me handle this."

He could see an exasperated frown form on his friend's face. "Techno, you're _injured_. I'm going to be fine, I'm not as fragile as you think I am." Phil's expression softened slightly as Techno lowered his hand with hesitancy and let him go forward. Even with reluctant confidence in Phil, Techno still followed him closely, hand tightening on the weathered handle of his sword.

Reaching their house, Phil lowered his stance, and with bated breath, pushed the door wide open after creeping up the stairs. Techno's ears twitched as he heard a chest close heavily before leaping forward and shielding Phil behind him, sword outstretched. He knew he was being stupidly overprotective, but today once again reminded him that he was so alone, and he wanted to do everything he could to keep his now only friend closer to him. A tall straw-haired figure with sky blue eyes clouded his vision and heavily burned into his sight as his eyes half-lidded, ignoring Phil's muffled sigh.

He plunged forward, sword narrowly missing a green-clad figure that speedily side-stepped his attack and raised their hands up, body language stiff before seeing Techno and relaxing slightly.

"No need to be so violent, bacon," the masked man scoffed jokingly.

Techno scowled. "Dream? What are _you_ doing here aside from being homeless? Looking through our chests?" He was already having a bad enough day, getting his hope beaten into pieces by Tommy and still feeling hollow despite the destruction of the one thing he had constantly worked against since he came to aid Wilbur. And now, this homeless Teletubby was raiding his home? At the very least, it was somehow better than finding Tommy in his basement again.

Dream covered his mask with a hand. "I'm not homeless, I've told you!" he shot back with a frustrated voice.

"I don't care, why are you here? Why're you not in your 'biggest house in the world'?"

"I just wanted to see... well, how you're holding up."

Techno lowered his sword and stepped to the side so Phil could come through the door. "We have absolutely _nothing_ to talk about. Our partnership is already over. The exit is here, if you didn't know already," he grumbled, sheathing it and standing to the side, gesturing towards the already ajar door.

"Look, I just wanna talk. And also see how you're doing," Dream repeated, his hands still up although Techno's sword wasn't at arm's reach anymore. "I'm not here for anything else, not here for Phil or the favor."

Phil gently touched his arm. "Techno, it's fine, I don't think he's here to hurt us."

Techno hesitated before relenting and stiffly strolling into his house, disarming his weapons but keeping his armor on despite Dream looking to be completely harmless without his enchanted netherite set with him. " _Speak_ ," he spat, a little too harshly, he noticed as Dream took a step back, now both hands lowered and outstretched like he was trying to calm a feral animal. After a few moments of total silence, Techno growled again. "Dream, if you want to talk, just _talk_ already so we can get this over with. " The blood of his injuries were now seeping out of his armor again and the wounds throbbed with pain, annoying him to the brink of an outburst.

"Uh, alone, preferably." Dream pointedly looked at Phil.

Rolling his eyes, Techno set his hands on his hips. "What words can't Phil hear? What are you scheming now, you-"

"It's alright, I needed to go out and get more potion ingredients anyways," Phil reassuringly said, shooting Techno a grin before grabbing the trident he had set to the side just moments ago.

"Phil- Phil, it's really not a big thing, we can go together later-" Techno started, but Phil cut across his words. "I _said_ I'm going to be fine on my own, Techno. I doubt that Dream is going to plan on killing me at least any time soon, and we've depleted our resources in today's battle. Relax, I'm not dying to a single mob," Phil laughed exasperatedly though good-naturedly again as Techno opted to speak again. "You talk with Dream and clean up your wounds, and I'll be back in some time. Enough for your chit-chat." Giving Techno another reassuring smile, Phil walked out of the house and closed the door behind him with a final click.

Techno stared at the closed door for a short second before turning back to Dream, his stomach churning uncomfortably at the notion of talking to his rival or ally whom he actually barely knew. Shifting unnaturally, he shrugged off his stained red robes and hung it on a peg on the wall before walking to the chests, Dream stepping out of the way hastily as he shot a glare at him.

The silence once again was almost unbearable as Techno bent over the open chest and grabbed bandages and towels, trying hard not to let his eyes float towards Dream, who was still standing there, looking like he was trying to find the words he wanted to speak to him. Even when he finally straightened his back and closed the chest vigorously after awkwardly rummaging for the last roll of bandages, he could still feel Dream's stare burning a hole into his back, hotter than any flame he's encountered in the nether. Once again, Techno cursed himself for not keeping extra healing potions in his chests as he felt his face heat up.

"Have you stared enough?" Techno finally said, suddenly thankful for the mask that concealed his flushed face. Dream seemed to snap out of a reverie and nodded his head vigorously. 

Techno jerked his head towards the ladder. "Come upstairs. If you wanna talk might as well do it while I patch myself up."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dream's mouth open in a silent word, then close as he followed him up the ladder.

Sitting on his practically unused bed, he gestured towards a chair that Dream sat in and slowly started to unclasp his armor, wincing as the hard edges touched his wounds. Surprisingly, Dream reached forward and helped him gingerly peel off the hard metal, revealing the white tunic below marred with bloody gashes that oozed dark blood. Sucking air in between his teeth, Techno finally looked up at the strangely quiet man. Dream wasn't usually like this - in Techno's memories, Dream was a loud and cocky person, quick to judgement, quick to find the easiest path and quick to grab at any chance of harming his enemies and taking advantage of those close to him. Yet, he seemed like a completely different person as his hands gently and carefully lifted the edges of his armor and set it aside.

Techno sighed. "Dream... you said you wanted to talk. You aren't talking."

The man shrugged, his ceramic mask glinting in the moonlight outside the window next to the bed. "I just wanted to know how you were doing. I didn't have the chance to ask after I started bombing L'manburg." 

"You really have no need to ask me anything. We're not friends, after all." Techno rolled his shoulder to relieve it of the stress it was under being weighed down by the heavy metal. "I'd rather be wondering what you're planning next, trying to get another favor out of me? Use it first."

Dream's lips pressed together as he reached down uncomfortably close to help Techno slip his thigh guards off. "It's natural to worry for an ally's safety, isn't it?"

"As you can see, I'm not dead, and that's probably good enough for you."

"Look, I- I just want to _care_."

"Care?" Techno bitterly smiled. "Didn't know that a _monster_ like you could care. Why not care for the ones that truly love you? Do they despise you?"

Dream tossed the armor piece aside and bent down more to help with his boots. "They do. I just need a friend."

Techno let out a short bark of laughter. "Didn't I just say? We're not friends-"

"Maybe we could be, if you'd _let_ me-"

"Oh come on, Dream, we both know that all you do is mess with people's heads. I'm not going to let you do the same to me."

Dream looked up at him, and Techno could almost see the flaming glint that sparked with anger behind the mask. "Techno, I know I've been an asshole, but at least not to you!"

Techno's hands gripped at the bedsheets, his knuckles white. "That's true, but all you'll do is treat me like a weapon like everyone did! Like _Tommy_ did!"

"Why won't you give me a chance?!"

"You don't deserve redemption, Dream, you're cruel."

Dream stood up suddenly, hands balled into fists as the chair behind him toppled back with a loud clang. He could see that the man was on the brink of rage. Techno flinched back at the sudden motion, before chuckling lowly, his voice gravelly and filled with contempt, almost.

"Kill me, Dream. Kill me if you want. I won't let you use me, and I won't let you touch Phil."

Dream's hand tightened before he let go, his fingers slowly relaxing. "I have no reason to kill you. You helped me, and I just want to know if you're fine."

"I am. Leave if you don't have anything else to say," Techno harshly growled. He didn't know what Dream was up to, nor did he want to know. He just didn't want the man to ruin what he already had - Phil, and his small retirement home. He didn't want to get dragged in wars anymore, he didn't want to care. And most of all, he didn't want to be seen as an object all over again, like how everyone else did. How Wilbur, Schlatt and Tommy did.

_They're all the same._

Dream's hands curled and uncurled, and after a moment of tense silence, he turned around and dragged the chair back to its position before sitting down and crossing his legs. "Techno, I would've threatened to kill Phil if I wanted anything out of you. You're not like the others - I can't hold anything abstract or any object against you. And trust me, I know-" Techno's eyebrows knitted together, "-I _know_ you just want peace for you and your friend. Just _give_ me a chance, _please_. One chance or nothing."

The amount of sincerity that Dream held in his words were genuinely surprising to Techno. He pressed his lips together, looking at the man who had his gloved hands clasped together tightly. Could he even trust the man who did not hesitate to do anything in his favor and obliterate anything else that wasn't? And the fact that Dream even said please... Techno knew how proud of a person he was, and for him to say that must've taken true sincerity.

"Show me you aren't another Tommy, then."

Dream's wide smile that spread across his face (or what Techno could see of it) was almost worth it. The man leaned forward and snatched the bandages and the towels, shrugging his gloves off while conjuring a water bucket out of his inventory. "Let me help you clean your wounds."

Techno didn't refuse. He looked at Dream weirdly before slowly stripping his drenched white tunic off of the gashes on his body, bringing the coarse fabric over his head, careful not to let his mask fall. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he looked at the wounds, still fresh albeit the fight being some hours ago. Some cuts managed to wedge themselves in between his armor, and they now stung with fervor as the sensitive flesh touched the air. He watched carefully as Dream dipped a towel into the water in the bucket and started to tenderly clean the dried blood around the wound on his shoulder.

It was quiet, save for the swift blow of the snowstorm outside that occasionally rattled the windows a bit. Techno stared at Dream’s attentive figure as he leaned in more to wipe away the excess on his skin, occasionally turning around to soak the towel again. He looked dazedly as more splashes of sandy curls unraveled down from under his hood and over his mask, going unnoticed as Dream focused on the task at hand.

“To answer your question earlier, I suppose… I guess I’m doing alright. L’manburg is destroyed and all is returned to equilibrium,” Techno started. “I still don’t see why you’d come here and ask me even though you probably do know that too. I’m an anarchist, after all. We aren’t close.”

Dream lifted his head, Techno’s eyes widening as they met the hollow holes in his ceramic smiley mask, finding them more emotive than ever. “Techno, I _know_ you’re not fine. I can see how you aren’t. The people below weren’t the only one that heard you and Tommy scream at each other. Besides,” he followed up, a half-smirk lifting a corner of his lips, “you still didn’t seem all that happy even though L’manburg is gone. You’ve worked against it for so long, yet you don’t seem like you particularly want to celebrate it.”

“There’s nothing to celebrate about, Dream.” Techno turned his head subtly and leaned back a bit, trying to distract himself from the smooth warmth on Dream’s palms as he attentively tended to his injury. “I’ve learnt and lost so much since I came to your land.”

“There’s also nothing wrong about talking about it,” the other man mused as he turned back to switch to another towel, tossing the soiled red-brown rag aside. 

Techno nodded idly, feeling his guard lowering the more he spent time with Dream in this quiet, enclosed space. “When you came and visited me, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide Tommy at all. You know everything, and you knew that Tommy was in that box, invisible, holding his breath. Yet you never said anything.”

“It’s a matter of biding my time.”

The pinkette laughed bitterly. “That’s why you’re dangerous. I know that I can’t trust you, yet you make me believe I could do so.”

Dream looked up again, lips pressed in a thin line. “Would it be enough sincerity if I took off my mask? I _want_ you to know I’m being completely honest with you.”

A suddenly flustered feeling surged up in Techno’s chest. “You don’t have to-”

“I will.” Dream set the wet towel aside and took off his hood, hands reaching behind his head to unclasp the ceramic mask. As he lifted it off from his face, Techno lifted his eyes to meet a pair of emerald ones, shining bright under the cold and pale blanket of moonlight that spilled in the window. Through the scarce lighting, all Techno could see was the outlines of Dream’s face unlike anyone had ever seen before, soft and sharp in the right places and sprinkled with freckles that adorned his cheeks almost uncannily, especially when Techno knew of his sharp personality which contrasted with this… unexpectedly soft look.

Dream’s hair was all down, still sticking out in places because of him tucking it behind his head in his hood, but the messily arranged dirty-blond strands framed his face almost perfectly. Techno didn’t expect him to look so drastically different from what he’d imagined - weathered, strong, serious, sly.

“Have you stared enough?” Dream playfully mimicked his words from earlier, the cocky grin seeming to fit in with his appearance perfectly, the sight setting Techno’s face ablaze.

He looked to the side, hand tapping on the sheets and suddenly overwhelmed with an urge to fidget around. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. No one’s ever seen my actual face aside from George and Sapnap, so it’s natural that you’re probably curious,” Dream laughed. Even the way his smile spread ridiculously across his face seemed to mold goofily to his personality.

“You know, I’m one for returning sincerity with my own. So I’ll take off my mask as well,” Techno suddenly blurted. He wanted to be on the same level of honesty this man has shown him today.

Dream looked at him with a quizzical look and an emotion buried deep in his shimmering jewel eyes that Techno couldn’t decipher. “It’s your choice, I’m not forcing you.”

“I know.” Techno raised his arms and reached under his long hair to find the clasp that kept his boar mask against his face and unclipped it, feeling it fall into his lap. He suddenly felt exposed, feeling the cold air blow against his face. He squinted his eyes and felt his ears twitch as both the open night sky and Dream’s ender-like eyes surveyed him with interest, his heart beating faster with a feeling he couldn’t describe either.

“You look a lot different than I thought.” Dream mirrored his thoughts, face scooting closer to Techno’s to look at his features with details. Techno averted his gaze and turned his head slightly, feeling his face heat annoyingly again. “Not many people have seen me without my mask either.”

“Ah. I’m sorry.” Dream sat back, picking up the wet unused towel again. “It’s just that your eyes are quite unique. They’re crimson red, from what I can tell, and really pretty. I guess you’re not called the Blood God for nothing,” he teased with a light tone as he looked at Techno from the corner of his eyes, _definitely_ noticing the pink blush that coated his cheeks.

“Your eyes are pretty too, I guess. They’re like eyes of ender,” Techno remarked politely. “Fitting for a soft face like yours.”

He didn’t miss the blush on Dream’s face either.

For quite some time they just sat like this, Dream slowly cleaning off the crusted blood on his skin while Techno stared down at his bowed head, resisting the urge to run his hand through those soft curls. 

Dream suddenly sighed. “Do you think you did the right thing, Techno?”

Techno looked taken aback as he heard the words that echoed his own when he asked Phil the same question, doubting himself more than he ever used to. The stitches that kept his mind together in unhealthy fortitude wanted to burst and overflow with his true emotions with the force of a gigantic dam.

“I guess… it’s complicated,” Techno began, his hands coming together and toying with his fingers. “I know I’m supposed to think I did good with destroying L’manburg, and I genuinely thought so, but that was before Tommy came to me.

“I was angry, angry because he was here, angry because I knew you’d hurt him. And so I took him in, gave him armor, gave him food, gave him a place to live.” Techno could feel a small miserable sob well up in his throat, and he looked away, forcing them back. He refused to look so pathetically vulnerable in front of Dream. “And after he left me, after Tommy went back to _Tubbo_ , the one who exiled him, I felt betrayed, even though deep in my mind I knew that he’d never stay with me, and that he’s never seen me as someone he could trust and depend on after all this time. I’m just a _tool_ , Dream,” he choked, “some _thing_ people use to get what they want. And really, I don’t see the difference between you and them.”

Dream stopped moving his hand, the chilling wet towel coming to a halt on Techno’s skin. He stagnated there, looking like he was thinking as Techno felt the dampness of the towel trickle down his abdomen. He looked attentive, so in thought as his brows came together in concentration. Techno suddenly saw Dream in a much clearer light as the blizzard outside slowly stopped, the clouds clearing over to let full moonlight fall its way through the narrow windows. He might call himself slow in thinking that wasn’t in fighting and strategy, but now he realized that Dream was… emotive. So much more than he was with that cold, unfeeling mask on, and Techno could see the concentration focused on his face for the first time.

It was new, feeling expressiveness from the man who never showed his face nor his feelings.

“I can’t make you trust me all of a sudden, that I know, because I know I’ve been… very _erratic_ in my actions against everyone in this land.” Dream moved his hand again, his palms pressed on his chest to keep him balanced, and Techno tried not to look away as the action sent his heart in a fluttering disaster he was sure that Dream could feel under his fingers.

Techno chuckled. “I can see that.”

“So why don’t we just start with how you feel at the moment?” Dream smiled at him lightly. “It’ll help. Even if you don’t think I’m trustworthy, only you can tell me what you think you can.”

“I guess you’re right,” Techno said as he let out an exhale. “It’s not much, to be honest. I’m just feeling myself straying away from my initial ideals and thinking that I’m wrong.”

“How so?”

“Tommy is right, in some way. It’s the people who make up a country, not the government. And I definitely know I feel no guilt for blowing it up because the government _does_ impact how a country runs itself, I can’t help but feel like I’m in the wrong too.” Techno twisted and curled a small strand of pink hair idly with his fingers, eyes straying towards Dream every now and then yet dashing away when they make contact with the green hidden in the soft shadows. “It’s probably because I got too attached to the boy at some point. He’s young and doesn’t need to be burdened with this,” he sighed, letting his hand fall to his lap. “I may just feel bad.”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with feeling bad.” Dream set the towel aside and sat up to face Techno. “If I gave you my honest opinion, I’d say to stick to your ideals no matter what. And I think you know why I’d say that,” he added abashedly as the pinkette scowled slightly, “it’s true that I work for my own benefit and you being _you_ is useful. But in your case, if I were to think about what would be best for you, I’d say to think more about it.”

“Thank you, Dream. _Very_ helpful.”

“Look, I’m not a therapist! You could go ask Quackity or something.”

Techno laughed, feeling a small smile creep up his usually indifferent face. Dream shook his head good-naturedly and picked up the wet towel again, back to cleaning the area around Techno’s wounds.

There was once again a small comfortable silence while Dream fixated on his movements, with Techno becoming more and more aware of their proximity. As Dream’s hand glided over his muscled skin, Techno tensed as the fingers came to a halt and pressed down slightly.

“You have a scar here?”

Techno looked down at the jagged line he knew was there, right across his abdomen next to his new wound. “Yeah.”

Dream’s fingers curiously traced the outline of the scar tissue, then trailed downwards along the path of the line straight across to Techno’s waist, leaving a burning stream of bubbling magma in its wake. “How did you get it?” His voice was quiet.

“When I was younger, I tripped down a rocky hill while training and got a large gash across my stomach all the way to the side of my waist because of an extremely sharp rock.” Techno lifted his hand to touch the outline of the bumpy tissue as well, mind flashing back to the day he learnt a bloody lesson to never lose his balance.

The dirty-blond man caressed the scar slowly and carefully, eyes lidded in interest. “It must have been painful.”

“It was,” Techno simply said as he tried to look anywhere but the lime green figure. He was still not used to _this_ Dream - the one that asked how he was, pledged with his honesty and sympathized with his pain.

Dream’s hand left his body, leaving a faint imprint of warmth as he leaned forward, squinting at his chest. Techno swore he could almost feel his breathing against his bare skin.

With bated breath, he watched as the other raised his hand again and traced another scar, this one diagonal, on his chest that ran from his shoulder down to the left side of his ribcage. “How about this one?”

“It was my first time fighting the Ender Dragon. I was an idiot, and I ran straight into her spiked tail in mid air when she launched me up.” Techno could still remember the emptiness of the End and his cries that echoed through the hollow realm. The other man did the same with this scar like he did with the one below, trailing his fingers up and down the knitted tissue and making Techno’s heart involuntarily jump out of his chest.

To his surprise, Dream let out a small laugh. “I came out unscathed when I beat the Dragon for the first time.”

“No need to flex on me, green man.”

Dream lolled his head to the side, eyes averting to the moonlit window and lips quirked up in a small smile. Techno saw the feathery light fall against a small blemish on his face that hid in the dull darkness until now.

“What about that?”

“What?”

“This scar here, on your face,” Techno mumbled, hand raising up to gently feel the uneven bump below Dream’s cheekbone. His eyes shifted uneasily around his face as he searched for a sign of discomfort or disgust, but found none.

“Ah, this,” Dream let an embarrassed giggle escape his lips as his face leaned towards his palm. “I got this when I was fighting with you in the duel. Remember when you swung your axe against my head in the last two fights and my mask almost shattered? You cut my face back then.”

“Oh- I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. No one ever sees my face anyways.”

“I see it right now,” Techno said absentmindedly, eyes glossed over as he watched the green-eyed man flutter his eyelids and bask in his hand, his cheek soft and warm. He lifted his thumb and caressed the bump tenderly before taking it away slowly, feeling an ecstatic thump in his heartbeat.

Dream almost looked disappointed when the fingers retracted, but Techno thought it was just a trick of the light when he quickly returned to looking cheery and gentle. “Turn around, there’s a gash on your back,” Dream huffed.

Techno awkwardly shifted so that he had his back facing Dream, his feet resting on the bed as he raised his knees and leant on them, hunching over. He flinched a bit when he felt the cold press of the towel, but relaxed his shoulders as he felt the familiar warm hand soothingly graze his back, the touch once again sending a spark of hot and alien feeling of contentment swimming through his veins.

A part of Techno’s mind was bewildered and confused. Should he even be feeling this way? Just moments ago, a festering part of his heart felt slight contempt towards the man, but now all that remained was a scarily unfamiliar yearning for _something_. What was the thing he wanted, he didn’t know clearly; maybe it was the urge for him to keep touching his skin, maybe it was the urge for him to keep saying those sweet and poisonous words, sinking in his bones and eating him alive. He’s never felt such a foreign impulse to keep someone next to him forever. 

The chilling track of the soaked towel stopped as Dream’s hand went yet again to stroke the path of yet another scar, this time running down his back in one big edge, his muscles tingling in sensitivity when Dream’s fingers lingered on the end of it near the waistband of his leather pants.

“How about this one?” Dream’s voice half-whispered from behind him, and Techno could audibly hear himself swallow thickly as he sensed the man coming closer, closer than he had ever with anyone else, _closer_ than he was comfortable with, yet he wanted the intimacy of the touch.

“A few years ago, fell down a cliff and got hooked by a tree branch that ripped my skin apart. It caught on my shirt, though, so the worst didn’t happen,” Techno added when he heard Dream audibly suck the air in between his teeth with a small hiss. He felt the towel hastily move against his injury a bit before hearing Dream setting it aside. Techno began to turn around, but Dream set a hand on his shoulder. “Stay like this for a second, Techno.”

Techno stiffly turned back as Dream took his hand off of his shoulder. The pinkette slapped himself mentally - _it’s just a hand! Stop missing it!_

He waited as Dream fell silent, the only noise the occasional chirp outside of the window and the gentle and sharp swoop of phantom wings. The quietness of the night penetrated their path of conversation, and Techno suddenly felt a lot colder like he should’ve before, being shirtless in an arctic night without a fire of any sort. His ears twitched; Dream sounded like he wasn’t moving, yet he just knew that the man was thinking about something.

“Dream…?”

Suddenly, a pair of arms snaked around his waist, an overwhelming warmth closing in on him like two waves in a lake crashing together, the words lingering in Techno’s mouth shattering like sharded droplets as Dream’s hands pressed flush and tight against his skin. He could even feel the warmth off of Dream’s arms through the sleeves of his hoodie, the coarse shape under the cloth hard and muscled. Techno straightened his back on impulse, his heart going a million miles a minute and creating a chain of wreckage in the roads of his mind.

His shoulders tensed up as Dream leaned in more, now chest pressed against his back. He shivered, the hot breath fanning against his cold and bare back, sending a spark of strange euphoria tingling down his spine. Techno resisted the overwhelming need to turn around-

A flaming red sensation touched his back, and he froze, feeling Dream’s arms encircling him tighter but taking care not to touch his injury. The scorching feeling moved slightly, and Techno’s thoughts completely splintered and exploded into dust, his mind blank as he realized-

_Dream was kissing his scar._

The boiling heat in his body was enough to tell him that he was flustered and at a loss for what to do at this moment. Dream’s lips moved down as he pressed another incriminatingly intense mark against the rough and uneven scarred skin. By now, Techno couldn’t move; all his focus was on the point of this affectionate touch; too close, too far, _too warm._

Techno could feel a feverish stream of desire flow through his blood.

After what felt like an eternity and a half, Dream lifted his lips away from the scar, and Techno pathetically missed the warmth just as it left.

He didn’t dare move as the arms around his waist went lax. _Hug me again. Hold me tighter._

“Techno.”

He quivered. Dream’s voice was low.

“Techno, turn around.”

He hesitantly twisted his waist around and adjusted his weight as he blindly followed the man’s demands, entranced by the taste of the ambrosia forbidden to mortals. Once he was sitting on the edge of the bed again, he looked up to expectantly meet those clear emerald eyes again, except they were misted and full to the brim with something he didn’t understand. It was just then he realized how dumbfounded and _confused_ he looked, how _red_ his face was, how _fast_ his heart pumped the blood around his body. What was this feeling?

Mouth slightly agape, he watched almost numbly as Dream edged nearer, a hand untangling around his waist to reach up and gently brush the edges of his fingertips against a scar running across the bridge of his nose.

“Then this?”

Techno’s mouth moved on its own accord. “A year ago. People wanted to slice my head apart.”

Dream used both hands to reach up and drag his head down to his level, pressing a gentle kiss to the scar on his nose. Techno inhaled sharply, the foreign feel spreading through his mind. No one’s ever done this before, so up close and loving.

The dirty-blond removed his lips from the scar, eyes lowered and close, _so close_ to Techno. They were almost sharing their breaths, he noticed, as Dream let out an exhale through his nose.

“And here…?” He mouthed, voice barely above a mutter as one of his hands slid down to his cheek while his thumb pressed on a short scar that went down from the near side of his face across to his lip.

Techno could feel himself recoil in unfamiliarity as Dream’s finger ghosted on the corner of his slightly open mouth.

“I…”

But before he could say anything else, Dream leaned forward and pressed his lips against the scarred skin, swallowing any words that Techno wanted to say. His eyes widened and he stopped breathing as every notion of time passing around him halted while all he could focus on was the velvety moist feeling of Dream’s lips against his. 

It was almost like a bizarre dream he’d only have once in a while if he ever got to even sleep. Like a stone statue, he sat there, the unfamiliar sense of loving touch turning his insides into a whirling sinkhole that sucked in every rational thought. The only sign of his consciousness remaining were his hands, gripping his leather pants and tightening by the second, his knuckles threatening to burst as they paled.

The softness hesitantly moved, and it was as if the newfound taste had been given to Techno. His arms shot up and dragged Dream’s shoulders towards him, making the man stagger out of the chair and put one knee on the bed. Techno’s mouth moved roughly, desperately pressing against Dream’s and trying to find the same warmth he felt when those lips were against his back and his face.

Dream reciprocated with the same interest, colliding their lips together again, properly this time, as they danced a thin line between rough and soft, compliant and demanding. The movement of their mouths were like a sweet and sour tango sparking on their tongues, bursting in taste.

It was messy and frantic, both sides holding each other closer and closer till their bodies felt the other’s every curve and dip, till their frenzied heartbeats morphed into one furiously drumming entity, till hands tangled tightly in golden-brown locks and pink strands. It wasn’t something like Techno had imagined before, never having kissed anyone in his life. He thought that it’d be soft, sweet and short, a hint of sickening love, but this was so dramatically _different_ in so many ways: blazing, violent, desperate, _passionate_ , a tantalizing taste of forbidden fruit.

Techno relished in the unfamiliarly romantic action, biting down slightly as Dream shifted forward and pressed against his wound. The man smiled against the flurry of kisses, gently biting back as he teasingly unwound his fingers from Techno’s long hair and pressed it against his bare chest, trailing them down heavily while the pinkette growled and tightened his grip on his waist.

Everything was so foreign and new, yet it felt so right when Dream initiated these bold moves. 

Dream finally pulled away after a while of pure heat and madness, his green eyes unfocused and cloudy. He let out a breathy laugh as Techno chased towards his lips again. 

“Would you try to trust me, even after we’ve done _this…_?”

Techno halted, his mind clearing as he tried to process what he’d just done with Dream, but he didn’t want to think. Just not yet. Not until he’s had enough, not until this wasn’t over. His lidded eyes stared back at the murky green under the dim lighting, giving him a pang of want again. Techno could _see_ himself reflected in the orbs darkened by the familiar otherworldly greed; he could see his own crimson eyes practically rich enough to drip with fresh blood and the satin red of the flames in his heart.

He hissed as Dream bent down to bury his face in his neck, scorching breath blowing out across his collarbones. And so they sat like this, in each other’s arms, breathing in the fresh and cold night air as their hearts calmed down in sync, soon enough beating with the pace of their slowed-down passion. Techno shuddered as the wind blew in, and leaned his head against Dream’s fluffy hair while he enveloped him with his arms.

Techno opened his mouth after ages of comforting silence. “Dream, I-”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to think about it now,” Dream spoke against his neck while the man shivered at the hot sensation of his lips again. “Don’t have to think about it. Just feel.”

He continued anyway. “-I don’t know if what I’m feeling is _real_.”

Dream shifted in his hug, the dirty-blond strands of flyaway hair tickling the side of his head. “Techno, if you want it to be real… then it probably is.”

“Have you… have you ever _wanted_ to do this?”

Dream lifted his head, so close to Techno that he could see the individual lashes that quivered with every movement of his bejeweled eyes, the freckles that were dotted haphazardly across his face, and the recognizable smirk that adorned his red lips. “I can’t say I haven’t thought about it.”

Techno looked away, brows knitting together involuntarily. “I don’t know how I’m even feeling right now. It isn’t something I’ve felt before.”

The dirty-blond man scoffed, raised a hand and pressed it against Techno’s chest. “You feel that? That’s you,” he chuckled as he dragged Techno’s hand from around his waist and put it under his.

“What do you mean?”

Dream sighed and pulled Techno’s head down to eye-level before giving him a peck that was so soft that Techno felt himself turn as pink as his hair, soon enough as red as his eyes. 

“Your heart. It doesn’t lie.” And sure enough, it was turning into another fluttering disaster as Dream pressed another red-hot kiss to his lips, hand reaching up and tucking a stray strand of long hair behind his pointed ears, red as ink. Everything was a crimson shade - Dream’s face, his eyes, the roses in his mind-

“Hello? Techno?”

Techno tore his lips away, a sense of foreboding doom settling on his chest. “Phil? I’m upstairs,” he yelled down, shoving Dream off of him quickly and looking around for the bandages that have since rolled onto the floor, long forgotten. Dream let out a very inelegant snort before sitting back down on the chair and grabbing the abandoned towel to the side.

Just as he started to unroll the bandages and patch himself up, Phil climbed the ladder, the bag on his shoulders bursting with items. “Dream? Techno? Your masks-”

Dream laughed. “We reached a mutual promise for honesty, so I’m showing my face as a sign of sincerity.” Techno nodded blandly, the blind panic overriding his senses. _Almost got caught. What if we got caught- Is it even called being caught-_

“Hm. I see,” Phil hummed as he looked almost too long at their faces, Techno embarrassingly looking away and scratching his cheek, while even Dream avoided his gaze after defiantly staring into Phil’s ice blue eyes for a split second. “I got more potion resources, though it’ll take some time to brew, so Techno, get those bandages on. I swear, I’ve been out for quite some time already, how have you not done that?”

“Ah, well, we were _talking_ a lot too,” Dream spoke before Techno could even open his mouth. The man shot him a look that said ‘let me handle it’ before turning back to Phil with a semi-convincing smile. 

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but I think you’ve overstayed your visit.”

“Yes, I’m very sorry. Just in time, I’ll have to get going,” Dream smiled politely before picking up his mask from the floor and bringing his hood up to hide his hair.

Techno grabbed a cloak and threw it on carelessly before following the both down the ladder, Phil opening the door and Dream giving a wave.

Dream stepped out into the snow gathered on their porch but abruptly turned around, facing Techno again with the emotionless ceramic mask.

“Oh, have I ever told you; you actually look beautiful under that ugly pig mask.”

Techno sputtered as he tried to find words, his face flushed for what seemed like the hundredth time this night, while Phil started to maniacally laugh in the background. “I-”

“See you around, bacon.” He swore he could almost see the flirty wink and the crinkle of those brows under the smiley mask, still imprinted behind his eyelids still long after Dream had turned away, stepping in the snow and leaving his tracks.

Techno stared distractedly at the path that Dream took before he pearled away, out of sight.

Phil sniggered. “What did you _actually_ do?”

“Nothing!”

“Alright, okay, I believe you,” Phil said in a sing-song voice as he hung his black outer cloak on the door. “Now go and bandage yourself up. The potions brew until the day after tomorrow, and we can’t wait that long.”

Techno climbed up the ladder again, this time lighting up a torch so his cramped ‘bedroom’ had some warm light. Shrugging off the temporary cloak and unravelling the roll of bandages still grasped in his hand, he smiled slightly at the scars that reminded him of his pain and work, his experiences and his memories.

Some wounds never fade away; they leave a scar, reminding people of a lesson learnt the hard way.

Even so, Dream could leave him unblemished and leave him wanting more at the same time. It wasn’t fair, how the man had just hung him on the edge of a cliff.

He was going to find him again, sooner or later.


	6. Gladiolus - Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief is hard to deal with. Guilt is even harder.
> 
> They all learn it the hard way.
> 
> 4.3k words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request for a small epilogue for 'Gladiolus'! It's shorter than what I've written for oneshots so far, but I didn't want to drag this out further than I should.

Wilbur was always an emotional person. He empathized with people a lot, and experienced other people’s pain and happiness deeply, the true sympathy hidden within his whispered words. Which also meant that he held the people dear to his life so very close that when they ripped away, his heart would spill and shatter with the loss.

It wasn’t a surprise when everything hit him like a truck speeding a thousand miles over the limit once he caught wind of the news.

He was already understandably concerned for Techno’s rapidly declining health, and eventually, after the weakening man became unable to talk almost at all, he’d spam their messages every day, trying to check up on him and trying to show that he _cared_. 

In his last days, everything was as if he was talking to a wilting plant - he barely responded, barely lived out his last moments, flowers curling in and fading away from its carnelian colors before falling to the ground, what was left of his life force just a wrinkled, charred and fragile petal.

And now he was _gone._

The next few days were a hazy week gone by in the confusing mist and fog, a forgettable spiral of daily activities and mundane work. Wilbur simply couldn’t remember what had transpired after his death struck him like lightning. All he could recall was putting up a video talking about the halt of his content creation for at least a month and keeping a personal note to give himself a period of mourning.

It was hard, dealing with loss. Wilbur hated and pitied himself for being so weak and feeling so pathetically wasted as bottle by bottle, can by can of his rations disappeared from his fridge and cabinets day by day. He couldn’t cope without feeling terrible as the helplessness of not being able to help a friend and the overwhelming guilt of watching them waste away while standing aside was _horrible._

The tear tracks remained. The ugly sobs that had escaped his mouth echoed. The cries of his friends burned. Everything cut into him.

The gut-wrenching depression pulled his life down to the depths of the sea, constantly getting pressured by the miles and miles of suffocating waters that held horrors no man wanted to face. Even the consolation of his concerned friends fell on deaf ears as he single-handedly got crushed under the weight of his own regret. Tommy was equally devastated, and Phil held his own silence, but Wilbur knew they were suffering with their own demons.

_Why couldn’t I have helped? Why did I just stand there, watching him wither and waste away because of someone he loved so dreadfully dearly? Why couldn’t I have confronted him?_

Wilbur grabbed at his hair, trying not to scream in the middle of the night and risking waking up his roommates and neighbors. Instead relenting and letting out an exhausted exhale, he swivelled in his chair to face the wall of his room, tired and droopy eyes occasionally catching his soft and dim shadow cast across the whitewashed cement as the monitor screen behind him flickered.

With nothing to do except for mourn, he had resorted to desperately grasping at some form of his memory that was intact when _he_ was alive. Watching their past livestreams and watching his videos helped eased Wilbur to sleep as his monotone voice washed over his shaky and fragile nerves. It was pathetic of him to keep grasping desperately at brittle threads that snapped upon touch.

He turned back and leaned his head against the desk, eyes lidded as his pupils unfocused upon trying to stay awake to the voice of his friend who he so dearly missed. Wilbur could feel his former confidence seeping out of the pores of his skin and sinking to the floor like mist, tangling around his knees. Now his tall and lanky figure no longer seemed dependable and reliant, but rather frail and shriveled in on itself over weeks of burdening the guilt that he wasn’t able, nor had the courage to tell anyone else.

“Let go,” They had said.

_I can’t let go._

It was too hard to. Not when his friend suffered silently for so long while no one was able to do anything, not when Wilbur knew that he was so very helpless and pitiful when it came to those matters.

_What can I do? It’s all over. I haven’t done anything, nor can I even do anything now._

_Or can I?_

Wilbur slowly sat up, his eyes stinging and straining with tears from the abrupt brightness of his monitor and his own feelings trying to burst out like a volcano. He couldn’t nor would he, at the time, do anything for Techno, but…

Maybe he could.

Maybe he could _now_. 

He swallowed dryly, all of a sudden aware of the parched feeling of his throat. Why hadn’t he thought about it? Finding the person that Techno _loved_?

Grabbing his mouse, Wilbur’s fingers flew over the keyboard searching for Technoblade’s channel. He could find the answer there. He could find out who had the audacity to hurt his friend and make him crumble excruciatingly as his friends slowly watched.

The tired man looked down at the gigantic list of videos that Techno had accumulated over the years despite the outrageousness of his upload schedule. The last video he ever posted was of a listed stream on the Dream SMP. Wilbur smiled slightly, feeling the corners of his eyes crinkle and his heart soak in the bittersweet memories of their improvisations on the server, how he had flat-out refused to let him write his character and how he was so _undoubtedly_ him.

It’s been weeks since he’s passed, but the imprint he left in this world still remained fresh in his mind.

Wilbur scrolled down to the very end of his videos list, while opening a tab of more of his previous live streams. There was a lot of content to go through, and he may never find anything, but it was worth a shot.

At the very least, he was doing _something._

At the very least, he realized he wasn’t helpless for once.

He was going to find the person he loved, the person who murdered him, the person who ruined his life and career.

_Even though it’s too late,_

_even though you’re already gone,_

_I beg for your forgiveness and stalk your path to death’s door._

The amount of videos were signifying sleepless nights.

_If I couldn’t save you before, I’ll try and save you now._

Wilbur’s fingers tapped on the first video, his hand quivering with an unknown new emotion blooming in his chest, fueling his desire to explore the truth.

_I won’t believe it’s all for nothing._

…

Techno was guarded in his personal life - not even Wilbur knew much aside from his intriguing stories told in his Skywars series, that reflected so much of his mundane yet fun daily life. But he was willing to try, willing to try and dig into what happened, the truth of his feelings. 

He _did_ feel guilt for looking into something so personal to his friend, but he tried to convince himself it was for the better.

Wilbur’s friends were abruptly startled by his sudden burst in energy. He wanted to share his plans with them, but looking at his almost crazily obsessive actions, he decided against it.

“You’ve been really busy lately, Wilbur.” Phil’s serene voice rang through the voice channel, the occasional click or a shuffle ringing through his microphone. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Y’know, just… making notes, I suppose,” Wilbur said, distracted, as his eyes slid over the Google document he had been operating on the past few weeks, each line pasted with a link to a video and a chunk of a footnote. “In general just being kind of, well, I wouldn’t say bored,” he mused, “rather _obsessed._ ”

Phil’s high laugh echoed through. “Is it the anteaters or the sand again?” he joked, tone filled with an underlying concern.

Wilbur chuckled. “I’m looking through old videos.”

“Ah, I see…” The other man thoughtfully muttered. “What kind?”

“Gameplay and commentary.”

A sigh came from the other side after a terse pause. “Wilbur, if it’s what I think it is-”

“It probably is.” Wilbur absentmindedly muttered as his dark eyes swam with sleepiness and his hands tapped lethargically on the keyboard.

The call permeated with a tense silence. “Wil, you-”

He waved a hand in mid air to no one in particular. “Don’t worry about me. I’m still… thinking. Processing, maybe. I don’t know.”

“ _Him_?”

“Yeah.”

Techno’s name had already almost become taboo between the two, especially when they were part of the only three that the man had told them about what was happening. It was a bizarre feeling, knowing something that no one else did. Even online, his death had been ruled out to not be released, and even when he thought about it, he truly doesn’t know how he passed.

Wilbur finished his notes with a final tap. “As I said, don’t actually worry. I’m not that fragile, just trying to figure stuff out.”

“Figuring out _who_ made it happen?”

He sighed - Phil was as sharp as ever. “Phil, would you hate me if I said I was? Would you stop me?”

The older man let out an exhale. “Wilbur, of course I wouldn’t hate you… even I want to know what happened, why he died the way he did.

“The problem is that… it’s disrespectful. If he didn’t want us to know, that’s that, and he carried it to his death.”

“So you’re going to stop me?”

“I’m not, either,” an exasperated and anxious undertone took over Phil’s usually kind voice. “It’s a hard decision. I _can’t_ stop you anyway, that’s what. I could _never_ stop you if you put your mind to something.”

Wilbur barked out a bitter and staccato laugh. “Yeah… I’m going to continue. I’m sorry, Phil. I can’t help it.”

“It’s also not a matter of if you can’t help it or not,” Phil sharply said. “I understand your sentiment, I know why you’re doing this. You don’t need excuses, nor do they work.”

Wilbur sighed after a short period of silence. “You’re right.”

Phil’s voice softened. “Just tell me if you ever find something, keep it to yourself. It won’t do anyone any good if you told anyone else, especially if the person you’re telling is the one that caused it.”

“No promises, Phil.”

Another sigh. “Wil…”

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur bit out, a sour mix of guilt and determination seeping out of his words. His tongue felt thick, speaking these acts. “I just _can’t_ let him go in vain.”

“... I understand,” Phil quietly mumbled. “And I know I can’t change your mind now, but no matter what, just promise me you won’t go overboard. Promise me you won’t go around telling everyone about it.”

“... Alright.”

That day, Wilbur left the call with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

…

It’s been over a month since that conversation with Phil.

Wilbur went back to streaming. He missed streaming. Not as much as he missed his friend.

…

“I wish Techno was still here,” Tommy whispered during a late night call.

It was almost 2 am where they were - drunk off of fatigue, messing around and basking in each other’s company. It was also when they’d shed off their energy, hang their confidence on a door and leak out their true colors. It was when they were the most vulnerable.

For a while back then, Wilbur had lost his motivation for creation and had even considered giving up all together, just setting it aside and not doing a single thing at all. Tommy had spammed him with calls, forced him to get up, forced him to complete every single necessary task he had to do to progress the day. And he was so thankful for that.

But now, it was his turn.

Tommy took _his_ death way harder than he expected.

They had cried when they knew, when a week had passed with no sign of contact at all. No one else knew except them and a few others. They couldn’t break the news.

Tommy had been silent.

Wilbur took a deep breath. “Me too, Tommy.”

“You still won’t tell me what happened. Even though you told me he’s gone.”

The acidity in the boy’s voice corroded Wilbur’s senses. He sounded like a murky red, the color of his tone and his mood constantly barraging Wilbur’s mind with sights of bright red flowers coated with blood, the kind of red that made you wonder if there was anything you could’ve done to stop it flowing.

“It’s not like that… the less people know, the better,” he breathed, the sullenness in the call caustic and burning.

“I _want_ to know _why_.”

“I can’t tell you why. I don’t even know why _myself_.” _Though I’m trying to find out why_ , Wilbur thought to himself.

The boy scoffed. “Why can’t we know?”

“It was his wish.” The hypocrisy of his words dug into his flesh like the sharp edge of a blade.

“I just want to know what _you_ know, not what he hasn’t told us.”

The stillness suffocated them.

“Techno loved someone,” Wilbur finally said. “And then he died.”

“What was it?”

“Hanahaki.”

The other boy’s end of the call went quiet before his hauntingly foreign voice resounded again softly, something breaking inside and shattering Wilbur’s heart along with it. “Then who was it? Who did it?”

“We don’t know.”

Tommy was silent again.

… 

“If I narrow down the suspects, only a few remain in our main circle, but I feel like I’m missing something,” Wilbur pondered. 

“You sound like a murder mystery case detective,” Phil chortled.

He chuckled, his low tone taking on an acrid hint of his pity. “It’s sort of like that. This is my only chance, after all. One ‘playthrough’ and it’s all gone.” 

“It’s not a game, after all.”

“I know it isn’t!” Wilbur burst suddenly, threading a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I’m just… I’m just frustrated. It’s such a wide range, and it’ll take god knows how many hours to thread through just their video-related content, not just their streams!”

Phil sighed for what seemed like the millionth time in this conversation. “Wil, maybe you should just drop it. It wasn’t a good idea in the first place anyway.”

“I’m _not_ going to drop it! I’ve spent so much of my time, and besides…” Wilbur let his hand fall onto the desk and leaned further into his chair, feeling his back crack. “I can’t let this be. I feel bad for not doing anything back then. I’ve told you.”

“I know, Wilbur. Just don’t stress yourself out.”

Wilbur nodded mindlessly, though he knew Phil couldn’t see him.

“Wil, we’re also telling them about it.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“...”

“You don’t have to be there. I’ll take the news.”

Wilbur let out a quiet muffled grunt, his head sinking into his hands. Yet again.

…

“Where’s Techno? Uh…”

Wilbur’s words faltered, looking at the dono who politely asked about the content creator. The rest of the call he was in in the Dream SMP was still bustling, but he couldn’t choke out a single noise.

 _Calm down._ He stiffened his face, making sure not to show any abnormality that might have registered in his camera. His heart started beating fast and he could feel himself break out into a cold sweat.

The longer he waited to answer, the more suspicious it would be.

He opened his mouth, feeling the unwillingness of his tongue and teeth, yet letting the lies spill out.

“He’s currently out… doing something.”

… 

Their actions were bound to raise suspicion both from their fans and their fellow content creators in their circle. Ever since Wilbur, Phil, Tommy, and surprisingly Ranboo, released statements about the halting of their content creation, people have been speculating about what exactly was transpiring between them, and coupled with Techno’s sudden hiatus announcement a while back, some people were excited about new content while others were concerned.

Wilbur stared at his monitor mutely, eyes now ringed with dark circles. He had done so much, spent countless nights plastering his eyes on Techno’s videos while doing as much as he could to find any definite sign of who it was that Techno loved.

Over the course of his time diving into this hollow cave, he found _nothing_.

He wanted to give up.

Heck, he had even tried matching up one of Techno’s pictures and done a search, but yet he could find absolutely nothing online that could contribute to his search.

All he knew was that he died for his love of a faraway friend.

Letting out a sigh at this point didn’t do anything to release the gigantic weight on his chest.

Giving up and pushing himself on his chair away from his desk, he helped himself up and staggered over to his bedroom before collapsing on the sheets and letting the smell of cheap laundry detergent enter his nose. Wilbur inhaled deeply, dragging his phone up to his eyes, half of his face buried in the blankets. _Maybe some brainless social media can take my mind off of stuff._

He scrolled past his timeline absentmindedly, eyes occasionally hovering over media tweets, the funny interactions between his friends, and tweets from the people he followed. Closing his eyes for a second, he reopened them again as he felt the welcoming wave of exhaustion wash over his senses while the bright screen numbed his brain.

Wilbur’s eyes caught a tweet that was sent a few days ago. Tapping on it, he saw Dream’s user pop up in the left hand corner, and a text message accompanied by an image.

_“Found my old yearbook, here’s what I looked like as a kid (again lol)”_

He chuckled as he stared at the boy centered in the camera, with his last name blurred out. Dream had done a partial face reveal back then and had broken the internet. Thinking about it, it was around that time Techno’s condition probably started to worsen…

The corners of his lips turned down slightly at the thought of him again. Sighing, he scrolled down into the replies to at least distract himself from his buzzing thoughts again.

_“This would’ve been illegal before his face reveal”_

_“SMALL DREAM CUTE”_

_“Dream is real?!”_

_“I think he forgot to crop his classmate out lmao”_

_Huh._ Scrolling back up, Wilbur saw the corner of another person’s face peeking out at the edge of the image along with a name. The other boy looked thin, with slightly long brown hair and black framed glasses that adorned a tired and indifferent looking face. The blue eyes seemed to stare back into his own.

He looked a bit familiar.

His eyes travelled down to the cut-out name. They widened. 

Wilbur’s hands shook as he brought his phone closer to his face, feeling sweat collecting in his palms and his breathing become laboured. A slow, creeping dread crawled its way up his body into his heart and his throat, closing them off and making it hard to even breathe as his heartbeat travelled to his skull.

It was as if everything seemed to connect at once - Techno’s disappearance, the start of his symptoms, his avoidance, it all seemed to merge back into a single point that unfortunately made his dragging suspicions come true.

“Dave...?”

-

Dream was still, the words and noises after that statement flying over his head.

It was something haunting and empty, knowing that someone had died when they were just, a few weeks ago, a living and talking being that he knew was probably happy and content with their life. He sat there, eyes blank as he listened to the others in the call. He couldn’t comprehend that a breathing person was just _gone,_ just like that, for weeks on end.

People cried.

He felt guilty for not crying.

“Dream.” A voice in his doorway shook him out of his thoughts.

“Uh?” Dream’s mouth was opened, and he let out a noise that escaped his lips unconsciously.

“You’re still in the call. Are you okay?” George’s concerned voice eased his jumping nerves, and he let his mouth close and curve into a small, albeit sad smile. “I’m okay, George, just thinking,” he said, letting out an exhale as he turned to look at his love.

George smiled soothingly at him. “Tell me if you don’t feel well, alright? I know it’s hard to take this in, but try not to fall too much. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Thank you.” He waved back at George as he gave him another grin and shut the door gently, leaving him to his thoughts.

Deafening himself in the call, he absentmindedly pulled up his and Techno’s messages. They were curt, to the point and professional, just how content creators should communicate. He suddenly missed the small banter they’d have if they weren’t doing anything else, and the occasional prod on Twitter.

A ping alerted him of a notification on Discord, and he pulled up the Dream SMP server chat. _Wilbur?_

 **@Dream** undeafen

Dream went back to the voice channel tab and undeafened. He and Wilbur were the only ones remaining in the call.

“Hello… Wilbur?”

“Hey.” Wilbur was stiff, he noticed.

“I… I’m sorry about the loss. Techno was a respectable person.” Dream let his mouth move on his own out of common courtesy. He was never good at consoling people, and even friends weren’t an exception - all he could do was try and be reassuring.

Wilbur let out a short breath that sounded like a scoff. “Yeah.”

A small moment of silence passed between the two before Dream uncomfortably cleared his throat, intimidated by the lack of noise at Wilbur’s side. “So uh… was there anything you needed from me?”

“... I just want to confirm something,” Wilbur murmured, voice lowered and filled with something that Dream couldn’t comprehend. Excitement? Contempt?

“Go ahead, feel free,” Dream said, one finger tapping idly on his keyboard.

The other man sighed into his microphone. “Do you know how Techno died?”

“How he… how did he pass?” Dream was abruptly startled by the unexpected question. “No… Phil didn’t tell us.”

“It was hanahaki.”

Dream sucked in a breath through his teeth, the discomfort of the questions prickling up his spine. “I’m… I’m sorry, once again.”

“Do you know what his real name was?”

 _What’s this jumping around with questions?_ “Uh… no.”

“Dave.”

“... what?”

Wilbur suddenly cackled almost harshly, the cacophony of laughs jarring Dream’s ears. “His name was Dave. _Dave_ , Dream. Do you know who he is?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at-” He didn’t like where this was going.

“Stop acting like you _don’t_ , bastard!” Wilbur sounded like he slammed his desk in anger. “You think I don’t know? Your careless ass gave me the last clue,” the man almost snarled.

Dream immediately went on the defensive, the foreboding growing nearer and nearer. “I- I never knew his name was _Dave_! What’s this all about? Why is he _dead?_ ” The prospect of his old friend he never knew was right beside him all this time hit him too fast, too heavy.

The British man went silent before bursting into uncontrollable chuckles again, the uncanny contrast between the murky sinking despair in his tone and the weight of his laugh unsettling Dream more than it should’ve. “You didn’t know? You _didn’t_ know? Oh, that’s why, that’s probably why he didn’t tell us… yes…”

Wilbur started to mutter to himself, seemingly almost forgetting about Dream in the call. Dream hesitantly opened his mouth again, his mind still filled with disbelief. “Wilbur… why is he… why is he gone?”

“ _You’re_ asking me why he’s dead?” Wilbur all but yelled into his microphone all of a sudden. “It’s you. _You._ ”

“What about me-” Dream desperately started, an urge to block his ears and leave the call tugging at his hands. The man cut through his furious questions mercilessly, spitting out the words he absolutely didn’t want to hear with a ferocity that rivalled the hiss of a venomous snake.

“He loved _you_ ,” Wilbur finally broke down, his voice bringing on a sob as he cried, pouring out the constrained emotional turmoil full onto Dream’s thoughts, splitting his entire being apart. “ _He loved you_ , Dream.”

…

He sat there. He sat there, in his seat, for such a long time.

 _He loved you_ , Wilbur’s shrill and desperately anguished voice chased him around in his head. _He loved you…_

Dream raised a hand shakily to comb through the tangled threads of his hair, feeling the clamminess of his skin against the cold and unfeeling air of his ventilated room.

It brought him back to the days of their wonderful friendship, the better nights of their rendezvouses, the twinkle that showed up in the blue eyes whenever they laughed. They had long paled from his memory, but the resurfacing of the unexpected loss saturated the past, everything appearing behind his trembling eyelids in splashes of bright, melancholy color.

He started to wonder. _Wouldn’t everything be different if I loved him?_ Do _I love him?_

Dream had an urge to slap himself in the face. _God, why am I lying to myself now?_

He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know how to face _George_ , knowing that in pursuing his own happiness, he hurt his friend.

He didn’t know how he could face his friends, his fans, knowing that the unrequited love became a _murder_.

Because of him, Dave was gone.

Dream wanted to cry. He wanted to bawl his eyes out for a friend he never had, a friend he never acknowledged.

He couldn’t.

Everything had never felt emptier and colder than now.

Dream had never felt so hollow.


	7. Intoxicating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They sweep the world and somehow each other off their feet, but it's Dream who falls first.
> 
> Note: Some suggestive themes, drinking (please do not drink if you are underage, and even if you are, please drink responsibly-)
> 
> 6.7k

Teal and neon pink lights danced across the dark floor, reflecting off of dark silhouettes as the echoing and slightly muffled music reverberated off the walls. It wasn't a messy party or anything - everyone was moderately well dressed, either jamming and moving around on the flashing dance floor or sitting around, playing party games and chatting idly. However, everyone was pretty much wasted and intoxicated at this point in the night.

Eret had decided to host a small exclusive party after the long-awaited end of the pandemic for his fellow content creator friends, and almost everyone from the Dream SMP had been invited to join in the fun, as well as other great people the SMP had welcomed and some mods and staff.

Technoblade, however, was not having fun at all.

It was crowded, stuffy, uncomfortably warm, and moderately humid to the point that he had to walk outside multiple times for a breather to get rid of the slightly overbearing smell of alcohol, sweat, and euphoria.

Nonetheless, it was wrong to say that Techno was completely sober either.

Tilting a glass of honey-colored liquid in his hands, he stared at the swirling drink for a while before downing the entire thing, the alcohol fizzing in his mouth and on his tongue, burning its way down his throat and settling warmly in his stomach. Techno let out an exhale as he set the glass down on a random surface, his head beginning to spin slightly. The harshly bright lights penetrated into his skull as he let his head fall back, sloppily falling into a soft couch away from the loudness.

As he played with a random strand of pink hair that slipped out of his messily tied bun, footsteps neared him, loud enough to be discerned amidst the blasting music and lively chatter of the people around him. Looking up with slightly weary eyes, a flash of green greeted his field of vision.

Techno would recognize this bright green anywhere.

He let out a tiny sigh. He didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

Dream settled down beside him on the uncomfortably small couch, his other hand swirling a glass of god-knows-what. Techno scooted slightly away, the heat of Dream's body seemingly amplified in his intoxicated senses.

"Having a good time?" Dream’s words were beginning to slur, and his grip started to slip as he almost dropped his glass onto the ground, his forearm leaning on the armrest of the couch and the other strangely close to Techno's shoulder.

Techno closed his eyes and lolled back his head again, swallowing dryly. "Not really, Dream," he grumbled, the incoherent sentence coming out as a low gravelly growl.

The man beside him let out a short, staccato laugh. "Yeah, didn't expect you to. You aren't used to being at these parties or whatever?"

"Nope."

"Ah, sucks I guess."

A moment of strangely comfortable silence followed Dream's words as he drank the rest of the liquid in his glass and set it carelessly on the floor, before turning awkwardly close to Techno, his breath fanning across his face. Techno opened his eyes and smelled the scent of cheap booze and intoxication that went strangely well with the opaque film of thrill and tentativeness forming in the swirling orbs of forest green.

"You know, it won't hurt to have some fun. After all, it's a party." Dream's voice lowered like his, the hoarse note tickling at Techno's spine.

Techno turned his head, forcing himself to look directly into Dream's usually bright, now murky and dark green eyes. "What are you trying to do, asking me out here? Go find your boyfriend George or something, loverboy."

Dream's gaze wavered. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Whatever," Techno waved a hand carelessly, looking away from his attractive pupils to the hypnotizing lights. "Just tell me head-on what you're trying to do."

The dirty-blond man chuckled after a short pause. "You wanna do something together?"

Technoblade blinked. "Heh?"

Dream laughed again, the slight sign of a long wheeze coming up. "Your mannerisms never fail to amaze me, even when you're this wasted."

"Not as drunk as you, Dream."

"Yeah yeah, not as drunk as me," he chortled again. "But y'know, you really don’t seem like you’re having much to do on your own, _Technoblade._ "

The condescending way that Dream drawled out his name sent another shiver down Techno's body. He grinned toothily, his usual anxiety and tendency to shy away gone, the booze charging his veins with a fervor he could only compare with the adrenaline to win at whatever this was.

"Dream, you're lucky I'm not myself right now," he sighed, turning his head to meet those bewitching eyes again, Dream becoming once again impossibly close, leaning across, breathing warmly down on Techno's neck, leg stretched to touch his.

He smiled slyly, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a fashion that made Techno’s heart twitch with interest.

Technoblade couldn't help it: his eyes flitted down to Dream's soft lips, then tracing back slowly up his straight nose and into the dark depths of his eyes. He pushed the questioning thoughts down.

"Playing gay chicken, are we?" Techno's voice was but a whisper. He was too bold for his own good, and he knew it, but he told himself he’d think about it later.

"You wouldn't know that," Dream muttered before finally turning away and standing up before looking back at Techno still on the couch. "Get up, piggie, we're going for a ride."

The pink-haired man stared, then shook his head and chuckled before heaving himself off the beckoning softness of the seat, looking back at him. "So what do you offer, Dream?"

"We could just go through a few different things, then you could decide whether to ditch the party or not."

"Sounds cool to me," Techno shrugged. 

"Then follow me, Techno," Dream smirked mischievously as he turned his back to him, lime green strangely bright against the darkness.

-

"Where are you leading me?"

"To your destiny."

" _Dream_."

"Alright, we're going to find Wilbur. I doubt you’d want to stay, he’s pretty much senseless.”

Dream swerved through the slightly crowded area with ease, while Techno lagged behind, slowed down by instinctive politeness as he felt the urge to wait for every person to move out of his path. By the time he had reached the edge of the mass of hot limbs and moving bodies, Dream was standing there, tapping his foot and staring impatiently. 

Techno grumbled as he accidentally tripped over someone's untied shoelaces (it was probably Skeppy's, hearing the distinct nasally voice yell an apology in his face). "Sorry, had to let them pass by."

"You're hopeless," Dream sighed as he grabbed his slightly clammy hand, tugging it forward. "C'mon."

The warmth between their touching fingers pulsated and that was all Techno's inebriated brain could think about as they bumped through more groups of people.

"Look who decided to join us, the Dream and the Blade!" Wilbur's light voice echoed through Techno's ears as the tall British man spotted Dream dragging him towards their own little group. Dream conveniently dropped their now tightly intertwined hands as soon as they neared Wilbur, and Techno couldn't help but feel a tad disappointed.

Dream gestured towards Techno. "You have space?"

Wilbur snickered playfully, his fluffy hair bouncing in front of him as his head turned from side to side. "Kinda full, but I don’t care."

The British’s words didn't reach Techno's ears quite as good as he thought: the alcohol was draining into his brain and everything was a cloud of colors.

"Truth or dare!" Sapnap yelled over the music, fist half raised into the air.

Fundy spoke over him. "Charades!"

"How about 'never have I ever'?" Badboyhalo's wholesome voice could still be heard over the chaos.

Quackity's loudmouth penetrated the noise. "Seven minutes in heaven!" was distinctly heard before he promptly got shouted down collectively.

Dream elbowed Techno as they both silently watched the group argue amongst themselves. "Pretty funny, ain't it?" 

"Not exactly. It's so loud."

"Oh, it'll be louder later when we're in my room, pretty boy," Dream sleazily said, eyeing Techno and seemingly satisfied after seeing his face get dusted over with a delicate shade of red that went well with his pink hair under the flashing lights.

Techno coughed awkwardly. "That won't work with me, Dream. I'm not one of your 'ships'." _Though I could be and I wouldn't complain_ , a small, teasing voice whispered.

"You're still scared, then? Too scared to listen to a mere comment of mine?"

"No, not exactly," Techno smirked. He was feeling more daring than ever, the booze in his system lighting himself on fire. "Quite the opposite, I'd say." He could handle a few flirts; it wasn't hard when the alcohol opened up his chained and reserved mind. 

Dream propped his elbow on Techno's shoulder, the pressure and heat straightening his back slightly. "You wouldn't be bolder if we were alone, would you?"

"Hard to say, Dream."

"Would not be if I kissed you right here."

Hearing the flirty words, Techno let out an amused exhale and shook his head, trying to hide his flustered face under the shadows of the already moderately dark room, fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt trying to distract himself. "You aren't usually like this, I see." The sudden feeling of a feather tickling the edges of his mind terrified him. _Dream, what are you trying to do?_

The dirty-blond took his arm away, an unreadable expression adorning his darkly illuminated features. "No, I'm usually not. It's the drinks speaking."

Techno felt a tiny twinge of yearning as the heat melted out of his still body. _What is this?_

Dream leaned near him again after a while of watching their friends continue to bicker. "You probably wouldn't mind going on a date with me like this, pretty boy?" he said under his breath.

"Of _course_ I would go on a date with _you_ ," Techno semi-sarcastically scoffed as he rolled his eyes. _Why’s he bringing this up?_

"But you would if someone else asked?" Their voices were becoming dangerously low.

"Most likely, it depends."

"Not me?"

"Not really."

"I'm hurt," Dream dramatically cried as he clutched at his heart, head and back arching in an exaggerated sigh.

Techno swept his now half-down pink hair back after feeling it fall out of its flimsy bun and cascade down his shoulders. "You aren't, Dream."

"This reminds me of being with George somehow," Dream grinned as he leaned his cheek into his hand. "Just messing with each other."

"Go find your boyfriend if you're that thirsty for it."

"I said, he's _not_ my boyfriend."

"Still doesn't exactly explain why you came to me instead of your Dream Team."

Dream turned to him, head tilting to the side subtly, his slightly long dirty-blond locks slipping down and making Techno’s heart spin for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. "I wondered how interesting you could get after having those drinks. I've been watching you for a while ever since the party started, you know."

"Have you, now?” Techno ignored the eager hammering in his chest and tilted his head, eyes finally daring to slide over, meeting the now swamp green of Dream’s irises. “They were right. You _are_ obsessed with me.”

“Am not,” Dream immediately shied away, his eyes sweeping over to their friends of his own accord, leaving Techno with a strange emptiness.

He stared down at his hands silently, trying to tune out the overwhelming noise of the group’s chatter. It didn’t help when his sight travelled over back to Dream again, catching a glimpse of Sapnap clinging naturally to his arm and saying something quietly in Dream’s ear while the man listened attentively.

Techno was suddenly hit with a strange pang of what felt like bubbling envy, watching the two good friends so openly affectionate with each other. 

_I want that kind of friendship._

_I want_ Dream _._

He shook his head vigorously, blinking. _What?_

Techno looked back at the pair, his mind tangling with different thoughts and going haywire as the cogs intertwined them more and more. _Is this normal?_

_Is it normal to feel jealous of Dream?_

_No,_ for _Dream?_

He stared as Sapnap leaned in to speak quietly again.

What if Dream were to whisper sweet nothings into his ear? What if he were to wake up to Dream’s hoarse words in the morning? What if he could feel the man blowing playfully into his ear, hands wrapped tightly around him-

The pinkette felt himself unconsciously shiver albeit the warmth in the area. He looked around at the moving lights, trying desperately to tear himself away from the dangerous ocean of thoughts forming in his head.

It was threatening to swallow him _whole_.

 _What’s wrong with me today?_ Techno raised a hand to massage his temple, eyebrows creasing together as he closed his eyes tightly, tight enough to form fuzzy spots beneath his eyelids. _Am I so stupidly intoxicated I can’t string together what’s real and what’s not?_

“Ey, what’s up with the mess here?”

An obnoxious voice sliced through Techno’s disturbing thoughts, and the man opened his eyes, already starting to feel annoyed even though the person had only said one sentence.

“Tommy, what are you doing here? Go back to the kid’s zone,” Wilbur guffawed, raising an eyebrow and chuckling more and more as he watched the boy twist his face into a grimace. “Wilbur… you’re so fucking wasted,” he scowled, even the accent in his voice mocking the group of adults.

Techno looked up at Tommy’s figure. The boy was tall, wearing his signature shirt with a zip-up jacket haphazardly tied around his waist. Seeing the comically red cup in his hand (presumably filled with something that wasn’t alcohol), Techno felt the urge to burst into laughter. 

Perhaps Tommy saw Techno’s lips straining to hold in a chuckle, but the boy turned to him, stretching his mouth out to one thin line. “Don’t laugh at me, dickhead! Everyone’s already laughed so much at my misery!”

Tubbo’s head peeked out from behind Tommy. “Sorry Wilbur, I couldn’t keep him from _not_ coming.” Once Techno saw the red cup the slightly older boy was clutching in his hand too, he couldn’t hold it in and let out a snort, eventually devolving into quietly hysterical laughter as the two looked at him, what seemed like disappointment etched in their faces.

Dream started to laugh along with him, the two of them making for an entertaining sight of two full grown men snickering ridiculously at the two kids with red cups.

Techno realized he found Dream’s laugh endearing.

He realized he was probably already a bit deep in, long before he realized.

_God._

Just at this moment, someone ran up to behind the pair of teens, bending down and panting before straightening up slightly, back bent a little and hand clutching at a stitch forming in his abdomen. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t… they both ran…” Ranboo gasped like a fish out of water as he inhaled sharply.

“Breathe, Ranboo,” Tubbo chortled, hand reaching up to pat his back albeit the other’s freakishly tall height.

Tommy looked on with a wrinkled face of disapproval that only spurred on the laughter of Dream and Techno.

Once their hysterical laughing fit died away, Wilbur beckoned towards the children. “Anyway, since you’re all here, just join us, it’s not as if there’s any harm,” he said, scooting over and squishing against Techno to make space. The pinkette uncomfortably retracted his arm.

“It’s alright, we were going to leave anyway,” Dream abruptly said, standing up and gently tugging at Techno’s other arm, easing him up gently from his spot. Techno let him, mind blanking out embarrassingly again as he felt the burning sensation of their skin touching once more.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow before a confusing realization dawned on his features that made Techno’s heart skip a beat forebodingly. “Alright mate, have a good time!” he waved, sending a wink towards a mortified Techno.

 _Yeah, no, he’s definitely got it wrong,_ he sighed, thoughts once again dissolving into nothing as he felt Dream’s grip redouble on his arm.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Dream muttered as Techno followed him blindly, still feeling the warm fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulsating and sending a feeling of unexplainable euphoria with each passing second.

Wilbur yelled again behind them. “You probably don’t need it, but use protection!”

Techno’s face exploded in a myriad of red shades as he tried to stop himself from shouting back. Dream’s steps halted for a mere half a second before quickly dragging Techno out of earshot, but not before they heard Tommy ask “Wilbur, what’s protection?”

Dream’s hand pressed tightly into his wrist as they verged deeper into the party area, swerving around people tripping and blocking their way, only to be stopped by another stumbling person.

Karl Jacobs shook his head like a fan, his floppy brown hair shaking around his forehead. “Dream?” the man almost shouted into their faces, Techno wincing at the loud noise. “And Techno?” Karl yelled, turning his squinting eyes towards Techno’s helpless face. Techno looked to Dream, eyes wide. Karl redirected his gaze to the dirty-blond man.

“On god! You’re drunk, Dream; going after Techno now?”

“I’m not!” Dream crossed his arms indignantly. “I mean, I’m _not_ drunk, that is…”

Techno’s eyes widened at the implication. “What?”

“I said I’m _not_ drunk,” Dream said, confused as he swung his head towards the pinkette.

Techno raised an eyebrow, then brushed it off, sweeping away the tingling feeling that shot through his body as he met those eyes again.

“Stop flirting, nimrods!” Karl yelled again, now swinging his arms up and over the two, encircling their shoulders and bringing them all close together. Techno cringed once the scent of cheap booze assaulted his nose once again, now emanating from both Dream and Karl. “Ey, I challenge you both to a drinking game,” Karl ominously said as his arms curled tighter, Techno becoming aware of the increasing proximity between him and Dream, deciding to ignore Karl’s arm around his neck.

Dream gave Karl a slight smirk, Techno seeing the flame of competition light up in those contracting pupils. “What do you propose, time traveller boy?”

“First to finish wins, one bottle.” Karl finally retracted his arms and held out a finger. “I bet Techno would come in last.”

“Oh, nah, I-I’m not joining in, I’d definitely lose,” Techno quickly said, backing out. He’s not going to join in a drinking contest, nonetheless with _Dream_. He’d probably pass out after a second and give Dream that blackmail material he’s teased him about ever since they started talking online.

“Why, you scared?”

“I’ll take it for him,” Dream retorted suddenly, surging forward and dragging Techno behind him.

Karl ooh’ed, hands coming up to rest at his hips sassily. “The prince and his princess?”

“Yes, Techno’s my princess.”

“Shut up, Dream,” Techno scoffed as he shoved him away playfully.

“Just watch, my pretty princess.”

-

Dream won. _What a surprise._

Techno stared in slight horror and amusement as he saw Karl slumped down against the table, one hand loosely gripping a dripping glass bottle while Dream jumped on the table, yelling amidst the deafening cheers of the people who had amassed around the two when they started to compete.

Dream dropped down to the floor, cheeks red with rushing adrenaline and alcohol, and swerved around as he tried to catch his balance. Techno exasperatedly walked forward and with a huge roll of his eyes, caught the lurching figure.

“Techno! I won!” Dream shouted in his ears, Techno wincing as he tilted his head back to avoid the heavy scent of booze and the booming voice that he took on.

He wasn't sure how he felt about knowing that Dream chugged two bottles.

“Yeah, yeah, you did,” he groaned dismissively as Dream turned around, raising his arms and roaring with excitement and laughter again. But when the swarm of the hollering crowd became too overbearing, Dream finally went back to Techno’s side and grabbed his wrist, eyes hooded drunkenly over his now very, _very_ heavily clouded emerald eyes.

Albeit his tispy staggering steps, Dream’s hand guided him gently back through the crowd and to a small porch away from the loudness. Techno inhaled deeply, feeling the cool night air brush against his flushed cheeks and the sweat sticking strands of his pink hair to his forehead. It was such a nightmare in the party area, it was as if he had entered heaven the moment he stepped outside. Dream lunged himself over the edge of the porch, head bowing down between his arms and breathing heavily.

“Feeling better? You look the happiest I’ve seen since the party started,” Dream gave a lopsided grin Techno could see out the corner of his eye. He pressed his lips together, forcing the corners of his mouth down - he didn’t even know he was smiling until just now.

 _Must’ve been embarrassing_. Techno pushed down the heat that threatened to climb up his cheeks again. “Well… I-it’s okay, I guess…”

Dream let out a meaningless laugh and detached himself away from the support of the porch, stumbling back with his weight until Techno surged forward and supported him with his hands in fear he’d fall and crack his thick skull.

Feeling the other man’s fingers snake up the sides of his arms and leave an electric sensation in their wake, Techno sighed. “Might as well get you something to sober you up,” he muttered half to himself as he dragged Dream up while the other still clung desperately to the sleeves of his loose dress shirt that he was positive was going to rip.

“Wait…” Dream whined, head lolling to one side as he struggled in Techno’s grip to turn around and face him, eyes lidded with inebriation and dunked in a murky green. “I’m alright when you’re here,” he purred, pushing against Techno and eventually cornering him into a wall.

Techno gently nudged at the clumsy man’s chest, increasing in desperation and strength as he felt him breathe down his neck again, mind flashing back to when Dream approached him. It didn’t help that Dream was slightly taller than him either - he was finding it harder to move him when he leaned right against him.

“Get off, you alcoholic,” Techno grumbled as his face went red at the feeling of Dream’s hands fitted snugly at his waist. “You’re drunk, and you’re going to cringe at yourself in the morning.” He would be lying though, if he said he didn’t enjoy it one bit, how Dream defiantly gripped him harder at his words, how his flickering eyes focused and unfocused on him over and over, how he pressed his lips together in a slow rhythm of planned intimacy.

“Just like I said, why don’t we have some fun?” Dream’s hand rose up to gently caress Techno’s head of soft pink hair. “You barely ever respond to me sober, but why not now?”

The pinkette felt an unexplainable urge to inelegantly drive his palm into Dream’s insufferable face. “Because you’re _drunk_ , that’s what, and you don’t seem to respect personal space-”

The fingers sensually stroked down his flushed face, across the streamlines of his cheeks and along his jaw. “What’ll you do about it, then?” The whisper graced Techno’s darkening ears like the sigh of a gentle wind, winding around his body and trapping him in place.

His dense and sweet breath fanned across his face and lifted a few loose strands of hair from his forehead. Techno exhaled shakily, his conflicting emotions and hesitating hands barely concealing the uprising want for touch inside of him.

“-and I said ‘fuck off’-”

Familiar voices echoed at the entrance to the porch, and Techno desperately craned his neck to see whether it was someone who could help him escape this dangerously awkward situation. Dream grabbed his chin and forced it back. 

Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo burst into the porch, sipping at their dorky red cups and laughing until Tommy stopped telling his story and stared at the pair, mouth agape in a fantastical display of amusement, discomfort and confusion.

Seeing the boy stop and stare, the other two noticed the anomaly and followed his gaze to a struggling Techno staring at them with wide eyes and a Dream slowly closing the distance between them.

The boys looked incredibly goofy, one hand clutching at their cup and mouths open, but this time Techno didn’t find it exactly funny anymore.

What a ridiculous sight they made - a man cornered up against a wall, hands incessantly pushing at another man trapping him in an inescapable position, all while being stared at unblinkingly by three children.

“Help,” Techno blurted, trying to shove Dream more vigorously again as the dirty blond’s eyes neared his, glinting with a malice and infatuation he’s never seen before. “Dream!” He finally yelped when the man got too close, and he elbowed him a little too vigorously in the ribs. Dream doubled over, groaning as the pain hit him like a freight train. Techno pushed him again and he stumbled back, hand massaging at the spot where his elbow drove into his chest. He scrambled off of being cornered on the wall and scooted away from the still bowed over man, while brushing down his dress shirt hastily and repeatedly to hide his embarrassment. Techno finally dared to look over at the ogling teenagers, a dusting of mortified red still on his cheeks even after a good 10 seconds of silence. “What are you doing here, Tommy?”

Somehow, Techno felt slightly annoyed that they were interrupted, but he waved it off again. _What am I thinking, I wanted this? No way._

“Ehh- h-hey, Techno…” Tommy started to talk in his stuttering light voice, one corner of his mouth lifted in an awkward fashion. Tubbo looked away, eyes wide open but pupils rolling to one side, while Ranboo looked down at his feet, hunching down from his imposing height and trying to make himself look inconspicuous.

Techno felt the greatest urge to lift his hand, pinch the bridge of his nose harshly then kick Dream off the porch. Instead, he settled with a facepalm. “Alright, sorry you had to see that, uh… _embarrassing_ sight. I’ll have to drag Dream out of here-”

Dream popped out of nowhere, seeming to have recovered from his pain. “Take me where? To dinner?” he yelped happily, arms sneakily wrapping around Techno’s torso again.

“God- just- get off me-” Techno sputtered, unable to form coherent words as Dream buried his face in his neck, shaking his head and making the dirty-blond curls shake around and tickle Techno’s cheeks. Techno’s face exploded once more once he felt the presence of a wide smile on the other’s lips as he tried to kiss him again. “Dream, _stop_!”

The man stopped shifting around and untangled himself from wrapping around Techno’s arms and chest like an octopus, face settling down in a pout. Techno resisted yet another urge to dump the delirious man right there and threaten the three teenagers still standing as still as petrified trees.

“First of all, you saw absolutely _nothing_ here,” Techno growled grumpily as he turned to the boys. “Second of all, I’m going to bring Dream to a nearby convenience store to get water, so tell Phil that if he decides to drive us home all at once. Now get out of my way and don’t get in trouble,” he grumbled as he dragged Dream’s arm along with him, still trying to swat away his other hand which was trying to grab his shoulder and turn him around. Without sparing another glance at the still shellshocked trio, Techno struggled to push Dream’s fidgeting figure inside the party to find the real exit.

-

“Here,” Techno said, slipping an ice-cold plastic bottle of water against Dream’s flushed face. Dream looked up from staring in between his legs sitting down on the steps right outside the 24-hour convenience store.

Techno sat down right beside the man as he muttered a thanks and started to gulp down the water. He tried not to stare as droplets of clear liquid slid down Dream’s mouth, down his throat and into his collarbones where it got engulfed by the collar of his hoodie. The uninvited thoughts sneaking into his mind were getting increasingly frustrating.

At least Dream was much more sober after that fit. During the walk to the store, he had insistently clung to his arm heavily while leaning his head on his shoulder. Though as they stayed more and more in the drowning silence and the fresh breaths of air, Dream had seemed to calm down and released Techno’s arm, becoming more quiet.

“Yeah, thanks, m’ feeling better,” Dream mumbled as he finally set the half-empty bottle down, his head arched back to feel the night air. “I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” Techno’s heart pounded.

“For… for doing _that_ , I guess,” Dream grumbled, his head finally swerving around to meet Techno’s. His face was flushed, still red and splattered with freckles, neck a raw pink but his expression had never been so awake since Techno had seen him for the first time at the party. Dream’s eyes, he noticed, were still cloudier than ever, but filled with an intensity that he couldn’t explain.

Techno waved his hand, eyes finally averting from the strangely tempting sight. “Don’t think about it.” His heart twinged with an unknown regret.

“I’m really sorr-”

“Why are you apologizing so much? I said, _don’t_ think about it,” Techno said frustratingly, turning to face Dream’s strangely serious face. He didn’t know why he was angry - perhaps it was because Dream thought it was wrong to try and kiss him, or it was because Dream didn’t like him - he didn’t know, and he was craving an honest answer for some reason.

Dream seemed to be able to read the hidden emotion behind Techno’s eyes as his eyebrows drew in and drooped in a forlorn fashion, juxtaposing with the drunkenness of the man. “Look. I’m sorry that I tried to kiss you. I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have gone over your boundaries, I was stupid-”

“God, shut up- just _shut up_ ,” Techno rolled his eyes, a small furious flame shooting up and burning his insides. _Did I want him to kiss me? Was I wishing for that to happen? What if it did?_

“-I wasn’t mindful of what I was doing, and-”

Techno grabbed his wrist, seeming to startle Dream out of his spiral of apologies as he tried to jerk away from his touch. Techno’s hand tightened around the trembling man’s.

“Why are you doing this-” _-to me? Do you know how much it’s affecting me?_ Techno’s mind erupted in a cacophony of emotions and thoughts as Dream’s eyes softened and the harsh lines in his face dimmed out in the gentle light.

“I…” Dream’s hesitancy sparked something in Techno.

“Why do you think- why did you think that _not_ talking about it was the way to go around?” he grimaced, trying to ignore the tantalizing feel to drag Dream in and kiss him heavy in the middle of a dark, empty street. _God, the alcohol must be doing something to me_ , he groaned to himself as he felt his usually flat emotions fluctuate violently. Dream’s vulnerable gaze just seemed to make his heart pulse more than even now. “Just _tell_ me, why.”

“Why do I have to tell _you_ out of all people?”

Techno wanted to grab his hair. “Why me- for god’s sake, I was the one you were trying to kiss in the first place-!” he half-shouted as he tried to tune out the thoughts that dashed back to just ten minutes ago when those lips could’ve been pressed warmly against his and moving with a perfectly harmonious grace.

Dream let out an exhale that seemed to carry all the weight of his thoughts. “The reason I’m not telling you is because it’ll ruin everything.”

“Because you love me or something?” Techno retorted snappily, mind smoking with a fury with no beginning and with no idea what he was saying. Why was he so angry again?

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I said it.” 

Techno’s head turned, eyes following an excruciatingly slow path to Dream’s. The silence of the night stretched the distance between them, the buzzing of nearby fluorescent lights filling the empty space until Techno’s hesitant voice brought it back. 

“Why?”

Dream’s hands reached up to tangle frustratingly in his own curls, eyes facing forward at the straining white bulbs of blinking lights. “I’ve got nothing to lose already.”

“No, why do you love me?” Techno wanted to swallow the answer that would come out of Dream’s parted lips before it did.

The man’s head tilted to one side slightly, eyes lidding over like he was about to doze off. “I dunno. It’s been years.”

“Years?”

“I watched your videos,” he confessed. “I watched your streams. I love your voice. I love everything about it, and you, everything about _you_.” Dream sniffed, and then rubbed furiously at his nose.

Techno’s arms itched to draw the man in, yet he still wanted to hear every word that spilled out of his unhinged jaw. He hadn’t noticed that his usually neat slacks were crinkling vigorously under the unconsciously strong grip of his hands until he loosened them and felt sweat slide under his fingers. It was cool in the crisp and clean autumn air, but Techno felt like he was getting filled with molten lava as his ears burned with an unknown ferocity, the heat melting through his bones.

“I-I just-” Dream gasped slightly, and Techno recoiled in slight shock at the sight of the man’s usually clear and modest green eyes being filled with tears that swam their way down his pink cheeks. “I don’t know how this happened, I- you’re the reason why I’m doing all of this today, and-”

“What do you mean today?”

“My videos, Youtube, I mean,” he choked out, his voice hiding an escaping sob within. “I’ve been obsessed with you ever since the start but I wanted to talk to you too. So I started uploading my videos.

“You don’t know how happy I was to be able to get into Minecraft Monday with you. You don’t know how ecstatic I felt when I knew that we got into a team in MCC, I always just wanted to get seen by _you_ , at the very least.” Techno sat dumbfounded as he heard the words cascading out of Dream’s mouth all of a sudden, as if a burden had been released from his shoulders. This was quite literally the first time he’d been confessed to, and he didn’t know how to feel about it, seeing that it was a drunk friend who admitted their stewing feelings that he’d most likely would’ve never had a chance to hear if not for the fact that he was under the influence of alcohol.

There was just something undeniably awkward yet magical about having a person divulge their love for him on a weekend midnight, in the middle of the street in front of a flickering convenience store sign with not a single soul around.

Techno’s hands shook slightly as he released Dream’s wrist, the other retracting it as soon as he could, his eyes darting away as they fluttered and more silent tears fell. 

“Dream-”

“N-no, don’t pity me or anything,” Dream stammered, hands bundled up in his sleeves and wiping his face roughly, leaving harsh marks over the smooth skin. “I know, it’s disgusting, it’s-”

“It’s _not_ , Dream, listen-”

The man flinched when Techno’s fingertips brushed against his arm, and Techno took his outstretched hand slowly away again. “I just want to… to help.”

“You _can’t_ help me. I don’t need help.”

“Then… what do you want?”

Dream’s eyes lifted, the fog in his irises swarming Techno’s conscience.”Isn’t it obvious? _You._ ”

The pinkette shivered from both Dream’s husky and low voice and the chill of the wind. 

All of this was wrong, wasn’t it? To want to comply with his demands? To want to lay his hands on Dream’s and entangle their fingers together with the sheets underneath them? To want to sink together, feel the heat of their release? So why… why was it so sickeningly addicting to dream of those things and let them run wild in his mind-

Techno was still frozen, his mouth half open in surprise and conflicting emotions. He couldn’t deny that he felt attraction towards the man, but was it love? Infatuation? The deceit of booze? He knew he wanted him too, but why and how?

Hearing nothing in response, Dream laughed bitterly, a sharp sound that pierced through the dark silence and Techno’s heart. “See? Even you too think I’m sick.”

No words could tumble out of Techno’s mouth now.

“Why didn’t you push me away?” Why don’t you _now_?” Dream’s whispering voice cracked again, the miniscule sign of an invisible heartbreak chipping away at Techno’s thoughts little by little.

“I don’t know.” Techno’s eyes flickered to Dream’s shivering shoulders and felt the wind whistle against the sweat on his own back, cold and harsh.

He reached out, ignoring the spasmic protests of the other’s denial and drew him in, holding the freezing figure to his chest. Dream stopped struggling, feeling the firm grip of his hands around his shoulders, but he was still tense and drawn like a taut wire, refusing to relent; Techno had to marvel, for a short moment, the determination of this man.

After a while of just silence and breathing, Dream’s shoulders sagged down slowly, his hands reaching up to clutch at Techno’s shirt, the fabric bundling up underneath the fists. Dream set his head down in the crook of his neck in a decadent fashion, accepting of his fate. Techno could feel the undried tears seeping through his clothes.

“Stop, _stop_ making me feel this way somehow,” Dream mumbled quietly.

Techno couldn’t help but tighten his half embrace, Dream’s emotional pain tearing through him too as much as it ripped through Dream.

“You don’t want this. I don’t want you to.” Dream started to sob again.

For a while, it was just Techno with his half-lidded eyes, holding tightly onto Dream and his now incoherent mumblings, desperate that he would slip away somehow. The night flashed before his mind, sinking into more of a stupor with every scene that played out and reminded him of Dream, Dream, _Dream-_

Techno laid his head on top of Dream’s as the other man’s painful weeps began to subside. “Dream, this isn’t pity because I need you to be alright. It’s because I want you to.”

His hand trailed from Dream’s shoulders to stroke his dirty-blonde locks tenderly. “You don’t have to tell yourself that I don’t want _you_ because you’re Dream. I don’t even know if I do, being completely honest,” Techno chuckled, “but somehow, I don’t want you to feel pain for thinking that I don’t.”

There was no response.

Techno glanced down at Dream’s face, but he wasn’t crying anymore, nor was he actually awake at all. His face was now relaxed, brows still slightly drawn together but not as strained with instability as it was before. The pale cold lights of the nearby streetlamps threw soft relief on the still wet tear tracks and the freckles. ‘Melancholy’ was the only word that jumped to mind when Techno stared at his peaceful face.

Dream’s hands were loosened as well, wrapped lightly around his torso, sharing their warmth. Techno could feel his slow heartbeat in the silence and stillness, and for a moment, all he wanted to do was to stay like this, Dream’s warm body in his side, and listen to his breathing.

He still couldn’t figure out how he truly felt, but the drunkenness was wearing away the more he stayed, with closed eyes and warm hands around his…

His friend?

Techno shook his head, convinced that it was the alcohol he had drunk, and not the real him.

He’d think about it more later.

He hoped that Dream wouldn’t remember.

Sighing, Techno detached his arm carefully to feel for his phone in his pockets, fishing it out slowly so as to not wake Dream up, and dialed a number.

“Hey, Phil? I’m gonna need to have you drive to the convenience store to pick us up…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for such a late-ass update! I was having a writer's block (as you can see, there's a lot of spontaneous fillers in this oneshot... oh well), but please do enjoy as it's another gigantic 7k.
> 
> I will probably not write a sequel for this anytime soon, sorry! Maybe in the future if it's requested heavily.
> 
> I currently have two plans in motion for oneshots I absolutely want to get on with, so what are your thoughts? Dream-centric angst or Techno-centric angst? Both are from the same POV but hey. Suffering is for everyone!
> 
> But don't worry, I will write less angsty stuff (not so) soon.
> 
> Thank you for the support - 300 kudos?! That's crazy man. Thank you so much!


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